The Secret of the Golden Porpoise
by horacethepig
Summary: The murder of a British tourist on Saint Marie has DI Mooney and his team baffled. What is the significance of the victim's final words "...the golden porpoise"? Why was he reaching for a ten-inch long hawthorn stick in his jacket pocket when gunned down? And why are two officials from London and three holidaymaking friends of theirs insisting on getting involved?
1. Chapter 1: Busman's Honeymoon

The rights to Rex Milligan belong to the late Anthony Buckeridge. Those to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. Those to the Dana girls, Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys and others to the Stratemeyer Syndicate. Death in Paradise and Doctor Who are owned by the BBC. Other rights belong to Marvel Comics, DC Comics/Warner Brothers/Hanna-Barbera, Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz, the BBC, Jim Butcher, Chelsea Cain, Joss Whedon, Terrance Dicks, the estates of the late Enid Blyton, the late Charles Addams, the late J the late Malcolm Saville, the late Ian Fleming, the late Peter O'Donnell, the late Gerry and Sylvia Anderson and more. I own nothing and make claim to the same nothing.

Early May 2018, Saint Marie, Lesser Antilles

A short plump bespectacled man in a garish full suit strode down the backstreets of Honoré. It was early in the morning. The streets of the Saint Marie capital were largely empty. Other than the odd bemused look that the locals would show anyone in such thick attire in the Caribbean, he was largely being ignored.

The man seemed to be in a hurry. He turned into a back alley. Shots were heard.

Officer Dwayne Myers of the Saint Marie police force was passing by. He ran in but could only see a short plump bespectacled man lying on the ground. This man seemed to have been reaching for his jacket pocket and was muttering something under his breath. Dwayne knelt beside him. "I'll send for an ambulance. Who did this to you?"

"… _The golden porpoise! The golden porpoise!_ " The man muttered and lay still. Dwayne dialled for the Saint Marie ambulance on his mobile but could tell that the man was already beyond medical aid. He rang Detective Sergeant Florence Cassell as well. Dwayne then checked the pocket the man was reaching for when he died. All he found was a ten-inch long hawthorn stick.

"What can you tell us, Dwayne?" asked Detective Inspector Jack Mooney, his usually cheerful Irish accent noticeably muted.

"This is a weird one, chief. I thought I saw a car disappear in the distance. Drive-by shootings are rare here, but not unheard of. But…"

"But _what?_ " Jack prompted. "Anything you can recall might be vital to cracking the case, Dwayne."

"It was just the way he said something. _The golden porpoise._ That was it. I can't think of anything on Saint Marie called that, chief. A visiting boat, maybe?

"Then he seemed to be have been reaching for something in a jacket pocket. I wondered if it might be for a weapon of some sort. The only thing I could find in that pocket was _this_." He held up an evidence bag containing the stick. "I don't think that could be classed as a weapon. You could poke someone in the eye with it, chief, but that would be about the worst it could be used for."

"Sure, Dwayne. I agree that this is no weapon from what I can see. As for that phrase, we'll have to research it thoroughly.

"Florence, was anything else found on the deceased? Do we have an ID?"

"Only a British passport in the name of Stuart Johnstone, sir," spoke up DS Florence Cassell in her distinct French accent. "That and a wallet with some East Caribbean and British notes and coins in it, plus some gold and silver coins marked as "galleons" and "sickles" respectively. As far as I can tell from an internet search, these belong to no known currency.

"Stuart Johnstone has no known criminal record and usually works in imports and exports. He had not visited Saint Marie before and only arrived here yesterday.

"One other thing, sir. There was a message from London to say something they called the DQC were informed."

" _The Department of Queer Complaints?!_ That is where we send people alleging family members have been abducted by aliens or their house has a particularly violent poltergeist. Unless he had spoken to the Yard about the Illuminati being after him, why would they need to be informed?

"JP, have you found anything concerning recent gangland activity in that area? We need to know if this is likely to be just a robbery gone wrong?"

"Nothing, chief," replied Officer JP Hooper, the youngest member of the team. "There have been no incidents in that neighbourhood recently. I could have a look around for you…"

"Thanks, JP." Jack sighed. "This whole thing just doesn't make sense. What is this _golden porpoise_? What was Mr Johnstone doing in that part of Saint Marie? Why would he appear to be reaching for that stick when he was killed? And what in God's name attracted the attention of the Department for Queer Complaints? Answer those questions and we should unearth what was going on."

Florence attached a photograph of the deceased to a white board. "Then we must investigate further, sir. I'll get onto researching what this _golden porpoise_ could be."

The Department for Queer Complaints had been alerted when the Metropolitan Police's computers identified keywords _stick_ , _sickles_ and _galleons_. From there, it was forwarded to the Auror Department of the Ministry of Magic.

Once Stuart Johnstone was identified as a wizard, the relevant offices were informed of a British mage murdered overseas. A copy of an e-mail to the Metropolitan Police was sent to pulse-hardened tablets and laptops. This gave details of the shooting and Mr Johnstone's strange final words.

"This is a bad business, Harry," Kingsley Shacklebolt muttered to his Head Auror. "We have no idea why Stuart Johnstone was even _in_ Saint-Marie, let alone why anyone would murder him. Neither do we have any notion what this golden porpoise might be. He was an importer of potions ingredients, but we can't think of anything he might be looking for in Saint-Marie."

"He was murdered in a muggle method, Kingsley," Harry Potter noted, "on an island with very few mages. Could it be simply a muggle crime with a wizard victim? Wizards have been in the wrong place at the wrong time and been killed without anyone finding out about magic.

"That said, we do need to look into the matter. Ron and Hermione could go to liaise with the local authorities to see if the Ministry needs to get involved. Both can pose as muggles long enough to not reveal the magical world unless they must. Plus, I think I might be able to get them some off the books help."

"Wonder Witch and her Furies?" Kingsley asked, referring to the wizard world's team of metahuman witches. "I don't think that we need to go into overkill just yet, Harry!"

"I was thinking," Harry told the Minister of Magic with a wry grin, "of an investigative journalist and a pair of detectives. Rex and Louise are on honeymoon in that area and they have Jean with them. Looking into a mysterious death and a strange phrase should be second nature to them."

The _Balaska II_ , The Caribbean Sea

Rex Milligan was lounging by the small swimming pool on the _Balaska II_ 's main deck in red swimming trunks, his new wife Louise Milligan nee Dana snuggled into his arms in a red bikini. Louise's younger sister Jean was doing a few laps of the pool in a cream bikini.

The _Balaska II_ was quite the wedding present from the UK and US governments for the assistance Rex and Louise had given over their enhanced lifespans, thanks to Sherlock Holmes' Royal Jelly Honey elixir vitae. Named after Louise and Jean's late Uncle Ned's passenger liner the _Balaska_ , it was a mid-sized yacht with some special features installed by MI6's Q-Branch. For the moment, however, none of the three-person crew were thinking of anything other than enjoying the newlywed's honeymoon.

Discrete red lights started flashing in the doorway to the bridge. Jean quickly climbed out of the pool and dried herself off and the trio put on bathrobes. They then entered the bridge and Rex flicked a switch under the control desk for steering. Three concealed control panels emerged. Jean activated the secure communications array that was controlled from one of these. A panel slid back to reveal a monitor screen on which Harry Potter's face appeared.

"Hi Rex, Louise, Jean! How is the honeymoon going?"

"Very well, thank you, Harry.

"Now, I've known you long enough. You wouldn't use an encrypted secure line for a social call. Let me guess. Something has come up in the Caribbean and you need us to investigate."

"Right, Rex!" Harry explained what he knew of the murder. "I'm sending Ron over with Hermione to liaise with the Saint Marie police. They can provide support to Saint Marie police. In the meantime, please can you three arrange to dock at Honoré harbour for a few days and identify what Mr Johnstone was up to and what this golden porpoise might be."

Jean chuckled. "What is it with us visiting the Caribbean in connection with clues to coloured marine mammals, Sis? Remember that Silver Dolphin case?"

"A white dolphin leading to the deeds of an island shaped like the constellation Delphinus? Treasure hunts have been our metier, Jean.

"Are there any magical species of porpoise, Harry?"

"None that I know of, Louise. There _is_ someone who would. I'll speak to Luna. That's her field."

"Thanks, Harry," Rex concluded. "It's off to Saint Marie, girls. Speak to you soon, Harry."

"You wanted to see us, Commissioner?" Jack Mooney asked Commissioner Selwyn Patterson. "Did I hear something about the Met sending us a couple of consultants?"

"Exactly, Inspector." As always, the Commissioner's voice was slow and serious. "A Detective Chief Inspector Ronald Weasley and his wife, Mrs Hermione Weasley of the Foreign Office.

"Now, I expect you and your team to extend them every courtesy. We need to show that Saint Marie takes the security of foreign visitors seriously."

"You can count on us, Commissioner."

That was true, the Commissioner thought. Like his English predecessors on secondment from New Scotland Yard, DI Humphrey Goodman and before him the late DI Richard Poole, the Irishman hid a keen analytical mind behind an eccentric façade. Whilst he was neither the stereotypical Englishman abroad DI Poole was nor as endearingly clumsy as DI Goodman, DI Mooney had a whimsical manner and a definite touch of the blarney about him. Still, like his predecessors, Jack Mooney's results spoke for themselves. Many a murderer had underestimated the man's mix of tenacity and deductive insight to their detriment. The Commissioner suspected that these Weasleys would be impressed once they got to see for themselves DI Mooney and his team.

Both DS Cassell, barely out of her twenties, and Officer Hooper, still in his mid-twenties, were bright young things, of whom much was expected. The veteran Officer Myers could be lazy and was close to far too many of the island's more dubious characters for Commissioner Patterson's liking (although he would not deny that the underworld contacts had often proved useful in the past), but his new girlfriend Darlene Curtis seemed to be a good influence. Also, Officer Myers generally didn't let the team down in a crisis.

A good team, then. If anyone could unearth what lay behind this baffling case, it was the Saint Marie police force.

The _Balaska II_ moored at Honoré marina. The trio disembarked and ventured into the Saint Marie capital. Seeing a bar open, they sat down and ordered drinks.

"Nice place," Jean commented. "What do we know about Saint Marie, Rex?"

"Saint Marie is an island between Guadeloupe and Martinique, about a tenth of the size of the former. It is a British Overseas Territory but was a French one as recently as the 1970s. About a third of the population are French citizens and French is widely used. Traffic drives on the left, as it does in the UK, but the car number plates are in the French format. The East Caribbean Dollar is the official currency, the main industries are tourism, fishing and sugar production and the principle religions are Christianity, usually Roman Catholic, and various forms of voodoo.

"Saint Marie has a university, an observatory, a newspaper called _The Saint Marie Times_ and about a hundred public beaches. The capital Honoré has a market, bars, restaurants, hotels and the police station, as well as the leisure/commercial marina we are moored at. Nearby is the town of Port Royal.

"One other thing. The island is rumoured to suffer from murder magnetism…"

"What the heck is _murder magnetism?!_ " Louise demanded.

"It is a thesis concerning places with unexpectedly high levels of homicides. You should see the English county of Midsomer's record for that…"

Jean chuckled. "I wonder if there are magnetisms for kidnappings, art and jewel thefts and the like? If so, that would explain Oak Falls and Penfield!" She was referring to her and Louise's home town and the one where their old boarding school Starhurst School for Girls were located respectively. "As for Bayport, Rocky Beach, Sleepyside-on-Hudson and River Heights…"

"I've heard George say the same thing about Kirrin Cottage and Kirrin Island," Rex added dryly. "Jon has added that the _Gay Dolphin Hotel_ , Witchend and Seven Gates seemed to have the same problem.

"In any event, this island seems to have had an unusually high level of homicides ever since the late Detective Inspector Poole was sent here a few years back. Ironically, he was murdered here on Saint Marie himself in the end. It hasn't ended under his successors, first DI Goodman and now DI Mooney."

"So, this is where we spend part of our honeymoon?" Louise sighed. "Only us…"

"Excuse me," said the tall elegant Franco-Caribbean woman who brought the drinks, "but I overheard you mention the murder rate. We have had a number over the last few years, but we have had a near 100% conviction rate for those crimes. My daughter Camille was a Detective Sergeant under Richard Poole and Humphrey Goodman. Humphrey and Jack Mooney are personal friends of mine.

"Now, I, Catherine Bordey, am both the owner of this bar and the Mayor here. Please don't spread rumours and upset your fellow tourists. We do take your security and theirs very seriously."

"We won't," Rex assured her. "Trust me, we don't want Saint Marie to lose its income from tourism."

Catherine nodded. She did, however, make a mental note to speak to Jack and Florence about these strange new tourists. After all, Saint Marie had a history of strange tourists being either murderers or their victims…


	2. Chapter 2: Enter the Weasleys

"Before our colonial masters arrive," Dwayne noted, "I suppose we should find out what was so special about Mr Johnstone to warrant their interest." He then noticed the warning look on Florence's face. "Sorry, chief! When I said _colonial masters…_ "

"Don't worry, Dwayne. We Irish have been known to express similar sentiments ourselves! More to the point," Jack turned to the photograph of the deceased on one of the whiteboards, "we do need to establish just who Mr Johnstone was. Florence, you've spoken to the Met. What did they say about Mr Johnstone?"

"Practically nothing, sir. He was born in London in 1962 and has no known bank account, landline or mobile telephone numbers or e-mail addresses.

"Apparently, he was a self-employed buyer of rare items…"

" _Without a bank account, telephone or e-mail?!_ I'm beginning to see why the Department of Queer Complaints were alerted. Was he involved in a cult or something? JP, there must be an address in his passport, surely?"

"Yes, chief. He lived in a place called Ottery St Catchpole in Devon. Apparently, he had no surviving immediate family.

"Since there is no obvious next of kin, his solicitors' are taking care of the repatriation of his body and belongings in due course. Per his will, his estate was to go to a related family, the Turpins. Apparently, none of them are in Saint Marie, chief. I've checked and nobody of that surname is currently known to be resident or visiting the island.

"He was supposed to be talking to a business that specialises in providing voodoo merchandise to the tourist market. _Snakebite Industries_. They have a shop in Honoré, only a short walk from where Mr Johnstone was shot."

" _Well done JP!_ I think that we need to pay a visit to Snakebite Industries and see if they know about a golden porpoise."

Luna Scamander nodded as Rex finished getting her up to speed on the murder. She thought for a moment before replying. "Well, kelpies would only be found in Scottish lochs or pools, so it would be unlikely to be one of those. Selkies generally only appear as humans or seals and aren't native to the Caribbean. They are usually associated with the Scottish islands, the Faroes, Scandinavia and Iceland.

"I believe that there is a shape-changing water spirit called the _cocoya_ in Caribbean folklore, Rex, but as far as I know they don't exist. They snack on children, so I don't want them to anyway.

"By the way, I've spoken to Jigger and he informs me that porpoises are usually only found in the polar regions, or temperate waters. Perhaps your wizard couldn't distinguish a dolphin from a porpoise?" J.I.G. "Jigger" Johnson was Rex's best friend from his schooldays at Sheldrake Grammar School in London. He was now a biologist and worked for the Paranormal Investigations Bureau alongside Jonathan "Jon" Warrender of the Lone Pine Club and Georgina "George" Kirrin of the Famous Five.

"The more we hear of this case," Louise groaned, "the more confusing it gets!"

"A wizard not being up on biology isn't a complete surprise," Rex commented, "but I take your point, love. _Crystallised Cheesecakes!_

"Thank you, Luna. Give my regards to Xenophilius, Rolf and the twins. Since we are unlikely to be dealing with magical fauna, I'll contact Jigger for advice next time."

"No problem, honorary big brother. Goodbye, everyone." Rex had met Luna when he and his friends at the Paranormal Investigations Bureau had helped solve the return of the Hound of the Baskervilles shortly after Luna had finished Hogwarts. He had been _The Quibblers_ ' muggle correspondent ever since.

"Goodbye!" they chorused back.

"I suppose we had better go back into the town," Louise suggested once the Skype-conversation had ended. "There might be some clues there."

"If so," Jean pressed a button on one of the control panels and a section of the wall slid out to reveal a tray of weapons, "we should take these." She produced three belts, each of which had two sheaths on the inside, one containing a combat knife and the other a multi-bladed penknife. "If this place has murder magnetism, we had better have _insurance policies_ in place…"

"This is the place," Jack said to Florence. "Charming spot!"

Florence had to agree. _Snakebite Industries_ was a small shop in front of a manufacturing plant. Based on the décor and contents of the shop, it was very much the tourist version of voodoo on offer. Dolls with pins in, artificial chicken bones and the like abounded. Anyone looking for an insight into the mixture of West African tribal religion and Roman Catholicism that was the genuine article would be disappointed.

"Hello. How can I help you?"

The speaker was a tall black man, quietly spoken. He was in a blue uniform. Clearly, he was the shop assistant of the day.

"Hello, I'm Detective Inspector Mooney and this is Detective Sergeant Cassell of the Saint Marie police. We are here to ask for your assistance in a murder investigation."

"Certainly. I'll take you to see Mr Stevens, the manager. He'll be in the workshop."

The workshop was filled with the same cheap tat as the shop, as far as Jack and Florence could make out. In a small office, a mid-sized slender white man with a Jamaican accent was sending an e-mail.

"These people are from Saint Marie police, Mr Stephens," the shop assistant said, as Jack and Florence produced their badges. "They are here about a murder case. Can you help them?"

"I would be more than willing to assist them. Who has been murdered?".

"Our victim is this man," Jack said, producing a photograph of the victim.

"Mr Stephens," said the shop assistant, "isn't that the man who came here the day before yesterday? He was looking for some items to buy."

"That's right, Everton. He was. As far as I can recall, he didn't buy anything.

"He was murdered?! How?"

"I'm afraid we can't discuss that. Thank you for your assistance.

"By the way, did he say anything about a golden porpoise?"

"A _what?_ I've never heard of such a thing."

"Thank you. Well, we've taken up enough of your time, so we have. Coming, Florence?"

Catherine Bordey was standing outside her bar when she saw the trio of tourists she had met the night before. All three were tall, with the man black-haired and with an air of perpetual bemusement, one of the women a brunette with soft brown eyes and the other a blonde, both strikingly pretty. The women appeared to be sisters and the brunette seemed to be married to the gentleman. They were all clad in T-shirts, shorts, sunhats and trainers. All three seemed to be young. Perhaps she should find out more about them?

"Hello," she called. "How are you enjoying Saint Marie so far? Are you here for business or pleasure?"

"Rex and I are on honeymoon," the brunette announced. "By the way, I am Louise Milligan, this is my new husband Rex and my younger sister Jean Dana. We are on holiday for pleasure primarily, but we could do with speaking to the police here. A couple of consultants from London are arriving today and they have asked us to assist them."

Catherine had heard from Jack that a married British couple were coming. Whilst Louise and Jean had American accents, Rex's was clearly English. The story was plausible.

"Certainly. As I said yesterday, my daughter was the Detective Sergeant there until she transferred to the Paris Gendarme three years or so back.

"What do you all do when not on holiday? Are you police officers yourselves?"

"No," Rex replied. "I am an investigative journalist and the ladies are private investigators. We have all been of use to the British and American governments in the past.

"The Weasleys are old friends of ours. Ron's immediate superior contacted us and asked if we could look into the matter for them."

"We don't intend to interfere with the police investigation," Louise added reassuringly. "What we can do is look into this golden porpoise business. The police can then focus on catching the killer or killers."

Dwayne and JP had been sent to pick the Weasleys up from Saint Marie Airport. The flight was on time and the uniformed officers did not have to wait long to see two people approach them. One was a tall muscular redhaired man and the other a petite slender woman with curly brown hair. Both had an air of authority about them, JP felt. There was also a feeling of something else as well, something he could not explain but which suggested something decidedly _odd_ about the two. This added to his increasing sense that this case was going to be _unusual_ even by Saint Marie standards.

"Chief Inspector and Mrs Weasley?" Dwayne asked. "I am Officer Myers, and this is Officer Hooper. Welcome to Saint Marie."

"Thank you," replied the woman in a kindly tone. "I am indeed Hermione Weasley, and this is my husband Ronald.

"Ron and I aren't here to get in your way. There _are_ however aspects to this investigation which may need specialist intervention. We are here to supply that and that alone."

JP was inclined to believe her. His instinct was that there was something trustworthy about Hermione Weasley.

"Well, sir, madam, Officer Myers and I shall take you to the police station to meet the Commissioner, Inspector Mooney and Sergeant Cassell."

Rather than Dwayne's usual motorcycle and sidecar, JP and he had come in the police's Land Rover Defender 110. It was somewhat disconcerting to Hermione and Ron to see a British car with French license plates.

Ron looked around the room. Commissioner Selwyn Patterson was a tall stocky black man in his 60s, gravely spoken and severe of expression. Detective Inspector Jack Mooney was a shorter, slightly chubby white Irishman of about 50 with slightly thinning brown hair. DS Florence Cassell was of mixed French and Caribbean origins, about 30, with tanned brownish skin, a shapely figure and raven hair. Officer Dwayne Myers was in his 50s, with a beard and goatee and an air that suggested he was laid-back to the point of indolence. Finally, Officer JP Hooper was a young man, 25 at most, with a keen expression on his cheerful round face. He would find out more about the Saint Marie police in due course. The briefing that Sergeant Cassell was about to start would be his first real pointer to how good they really are.

"Mr Stuart Johnstone was born in Acton, London on November 30, 1962. His parents were the owners of an import company just off Charing Cross Road." Ron shared a quick grin with Hermione. Both had loved that euphemism provided by the Ministry of Magic via the Metropolitan Police for "in Diagon Alley". Neither, however, noticed that Jack Mooney had spotted said exchange of grins.

"The deceased," Florence continued, "arrived in Saint Marie three days ago. We have searched his hotel room and found this." She produced a notebook. "Apparently, he was looking for some sort of voodoo statuettes that were being imported to Britain illegally by someone identified as "MF". There is no full name provided.

"Mr Johnstone visited an establishment by the name of _Snakebite Industries_ two days ago. According to Devon Stevens the manager and owner of the combined workplace and shop they run, he was after some statuettes, but they no longer manufacture them. Interestingly, when the victim was shot the following morning, he was far closer to their premises than he was to his hotel.

"Sir, could one of these statuettes be a porpoise or other small whale made from gold? It would make sense of those last words.

"When Officer Myers heard gunshots, he went to investigate. He believes he saw a car vanish in the distance and Mr Johnstone mortally wounded on the ground. The victim made some comment about a golden porpoise and died."

"As you can gather," Jack commented, "this is a weird one. There were coins belonging to no known currency in the deceased's wallet, this stick was found in a pocket he was reaching for at the time of his murder and Mr Johnstone was flagged up by a department of Scotland Yard that generally deals with UFO sightings and spectral apparitions. There is no record of him having any telephone, e-mail address or bank account, yet he was self-employed in a field in which one would be necessary. This entire case is baffling."

"Perhaps, Inspector," the Commissioner suggested, "our new arrivals might have something to add."

"We can offer some more details," Ron agreed. "Mr Johnstone was part of a fairly isolated group of people that shunned technology in the main.

"That community has an interest in the occult and mystical. He seems to have found some evidence of the smuggling of voodoo objects from Saint Marie and decided to investigate himself before taking the matter to the authorities. I assume that he was detected and killed.

"My colleagues in the department are searching through Mr Johnstone's home for any indications of what he had discovered. I shall share any relevant findings with you."

"Thank you, DCI Weasley," Jack responded.

"Please call me Ron. The Missus is Hermione."

"To be sure. I'm Jack. It seems as if…"

There was a knock on the station's front door. At a nod from Jack, Dwayne went and opened it.

"Hello everyone," said Catherine Bordey. "I've brought some more new arrivals to Saint Marie with me. Apparently, they are friends of _your_ new arrivals, Jack."

"Indeed, they are!" Hermione beamed brightly. "Hi Rex, Louise, Jean," she waved at them.

"Rex Milligan is an investigative reporter. His wife Louise and her younger sister Jean are private eyes. They have been of use to us in the past.

"The three of them are on holiday – Rex and Louise's honeymoon actually – in the area. Ron's boss Superintendent Harry Potter asked the two of them to investigate the golden porpoise for us."

"Scotland Yard liaised with the Foreign and Commonwealth Office and _other_ departments to obtain the relevant authorisation for the three of us," Rex added, handing Jack a document. "Given that my wife and sister-in-law are American citizens, they liaised in turn with their equivalents in the States. I believe all should be in order?"

Jack nodded. "We'll have to confirm with said authorities, but it all seems in good order, so it does.

"It's getting late and I'm sure that you all want plenty of rest. We'll resume tomorrow. Inspector and Mrs Weasley, Mr and Mrs Milligan, Miss Dana, we usually meet up for drinks at Catherine's Bar after work. Catherine Bordey here runs it. She is also the Mayor." He added this for Ron and Hermione's benefit. Presumably Catherine would have told the other three.

"We'll be there," Ron promised, "even if only for a short time. Hermione and I have had a long journey today."

"How are Rose and Hugo?" Rex asked conversationally.

"Very well, thank you," Hermione replied. "Rose is away at boarding school and Hugo is staying with the Potters. He is in the same class as Lily, so they can drop him off with her."

"You have children?" Florence clarified.

"Yes, two. Rose is twelve and Hugo ten. Superintendent Potter is married to Ron's sister Ginny and the youngest two of their three children are the same ages. Lily and Hugo are best friends and Rose and Al usually get along well enough.

"But for now, I could murder a good cup of tea!" Dwayne and Catherine burst out laughing. "What's so funny?"

"The late Richard Poole only drank tea in the Bar," Catherine reminisced, "even when it was eighty degrees plus in the shade! He wanted it in a bone china teacup with a saucer too. I originally brought Humphrey Goodman one when he first arrived, but Humphrey thought it was much too hot for tea and had a cold beer instead."

"Yes, and DI Poole wore a full suit and tie to work each day," Dwayne added. "His most common request in the station was " _Turn up the air conditioning please!_ "."

"A man after my own heart!" Hermione approved. "Still, it does show that there is at least one of my favourite beverages available on Saint Marie."

"Richard always said that I made a good cup of tea," Catherine recalled fondly.

Catherine's Bar had a large raised veranda around the building, parts of which were under a wooden roof. With marvellous views of the shimmering blue sea during the day, it was popular with tourists and locals alike.

Hermione pronounced her cup of tea "Excellent, thank you," and was currently chatting happily to Florence. She told her new friend that she usually worked in domestic legal reform but was currently working with the Foreign and Commonwealth Office on international law enforcement cooperation. Superintendent Potter had asked her to accompany her husband in case the perpetrators were also wanted for crimes in Britain. "Obviously, given that this is a murder case, Saint Marie shall have first bite of the cherry, so to speak. Some of the lesser lights, however, may be wanted for more serious crimes back home and I can liaise with the courts over here." Hermione didn't mention that, as she knew, and Florence didn't, there were also concerns that wizards might be involved. There were few British or French mage authorities present, merely a couple of small offices where you could consult with a representative of the Ministry of Magic or their French equivalent. It was decided to use the _connections_ the Ministry now had with the British muggle authorities to effectively transfer her to the Foreign Office, with Ron as an Auror already having equivalent ranking in the Met. Kingsley and Harry had decided that gaining Aurors muggle police warrant cards allowed them to ask muggles questions without provoking suspicion and made gaining access to mage suspects held by the police quicker and easier than previously.

Ron was enjoying a cold bottle of beer with Jack, Dwayne and JP. He was, however, having a slightly harder job than Hermione, as Jack had worked at New Scotland Yard for some years. Half the officers he knew Ron didn't. Luckily, Jack hadn't worked for the Department of Queer Complaints. Ron had explained that the isolated esoteric community Stuart Johnstone had been subject to witch hunts in the past, so Queer Complaints had had to resolve allegations of ritual abuse. The community wanted the Department to get involved in crimes affecting them, as they knew they would be treated fairly.

Not for the first time, Ron was grateful for John Steed wanting British mages to allow muggles to get fully involved in (and preferably take command) if magical problems threatened muggles, whether empowered or otherwise. So far, the Wizengamot and the Ministry were not sold on this idea, but Kingsley and Harry had arranged for the Aurors to be given reciprocal authority with MI5 and the Special Branch of the Metropolitan Police. This made it easier to liaise with the Security Services in the event of a wizard matter escalating beyond their world. Now, Ron had a cover story when working with muggles that wasn't technically a lie. He _is_ technically a Detective Chief Inspector with the Met and his warrant card is 100% genuine.

"Uncle Ned would have loved it here," Louise remarked to Jean softly. "There's palm trees, beaches, moorings aplenty and all the rum he could drink."

"Yes, he would have.

"How do you like cold beer, Rex? You Brits…"

"…Usually drink _cask_ beers warm and _bottled_ ones chilled! _Petrified Paintpots!_ Only an addle-pated clodpoll would drink warm bottled beer on a balmy Caribbean evening…

"Now, if you excuse us, I would like to take your sister for a stroll along the beach. After all, we are still technically on honeymoon…"

"As long as this walk involves plenty of kissing," Louise added, "I'm in!"


	3. Chapter 3: Black Widow Incorporated

The following morning, before heading to Saint Marie police station, Ron and Hermione stopped off at Honoré marina. Rex, Louise and Jean were all on the foredeck of the _Balaska II_ , chatting happily.

"Fancy some ginger beer?" Rex called as the Weasleys boarded the yacht. "As George would say, we have lashings of it! Old Jamaica, so it's the proper fiery stuff!"

"That would be lovely, Rex, thank you," Hermione responded. "Nicely refreshing!

"It seems strange to be in shorts and T-shirts on official business. I can't imagine that happening in London too often. Particularly when you work at the Ministry of Magic!"

"Jack Mooney has asked me to come along with him on a further visit to _Snakebite Industries_ ," Ron stated. "If I can get a _feel_ for any magic there, I might be able to ask Harry Dresden to get the White Council looking into things.

"Also, Hermione at the police station and I on site shall be searching for signs of any business dealings which may involve wizard companies. There _must_ be some link between the company, the smuggling of magical items and the murder. Common sense tells us that!"

" _A pureblood wizard talking positively of common sense?!_ " Hermione asked rhetorically. "The world is turned upside down!"

"Ron's right, though," Rex observed. "At least, we have evidence that Mr Johnstone was looking into the company in connection with the smuggling. He was murdered nearby the following day.

"Whether you call the mental process common sense or logical deduction, Hermione, it is still making a reasoned conclusion from the data. Aurors are still effectively police officers at the end of the day.

"What do you want us to do, Ron?"

"Ask a few locals if they have heard of anything called a _golden porpoise_ , particularly if it relates to voodoo. That is our only other genuine lead currently.

"Whatever it means, it was obviously of vital importance to our victim…"

It was not unusual for Florence to find Jack discussing the current case with Harry at the shack on a beach that was the Detective Inspector's lodgings on Saint Marie. The small green lizard had been the long-term co-occupier of the comfortable building since Richard Poole's time. With Jack a widower, whose daughter Siobhan was currently at university back in the UK, he like the divorced Humphrey Goodman and the bachelor Richard Poole had found the reptile a useful sounding board. Harry was content to listen to their monologues in return for a bit of salad each day.

"There's something unusual going on here, Harry, so there is. Ron and Hermione Weasley seem to know more about this case than they are letting on. Those grins they shared when the location of the victim's parents' business mentioned was bizarre. What was so significant about the business being just off Charing Cross Road?

"Actually, that _is_ a vague description. There are quite a few streets that could fit the bill. Why not say which?

"Then this stick and those coins about Mr Johnstone's person. Who believes ten-inches of hawthorn can defend them from a drive-by shooting? As Dwayne said, other than poking the gunman or the driver in a sensitive spot, what defence could it be? Did this community he allegedly hailed from make a form of coinage of their own? Why hasn't the Royal Mint acted against an illegal currency if so?

"Throw in the presence of their friends with Security Services' authorisation and those mysterious last words and _everything is weird!_ We could well be on the verge of something _really big and possibly really nasty!_ "

"You suspect our new colleagues of lying, sir?" Florence interrupted.

"Good morning, Florence. And, to answer your question, I suspect them more of being _economical with the truth_ than of _telling falsehoods_.

"I can't help but feel that there is much more to the five of them being involved than we have yet been informed of…"

Hermione Weasley was clearly used to research, JP observed. She was rapidly keying entries into her laptop (which seemed slightly bulkier than usual), having requested and been granted the network and password for the Wi-Fi. She read from the pages on screen quickly and with apparently rapid comprehension and retention, for the questions she asked him about the material were clearly for clarification, particularly of local customs and practices. As he had instinctively realised, the woman was clearly brighter than just about anyone he had previously met, the Inspector and his predecessor apart.

"Do you have any family, JP?" Hermione asked. The research was going well, she felt. A few major suppliers to and buyers from _Snakebite Industries_ had been tentatively identified. She had e-mailed a list to the small offices that liaised with the Ministry and their French equivalent, just in case they were aware of any mages who ran or were employed by the businesses on the list. Given that there was little more she could do until Ron or Rex, Louise and Jean had reported back, she felt she might as well strike up a proper chat with the friendly local officer.

"I am married to Rosey, a model. She was an old school crush of mine. We met up again when she was a suspect in a murder investigation involving a fashion show. After the culprit was caught, we started dated and married shortly afterwards."

" _How romantic!_ Ron was my school crush too! We were wed practically straight out of our boarding school.

"What about your colleagues?"

"Dwayne's something of a womaniser, but his new girlfriend Darlene seems to have finally tamed the old rogue. DS Cassell is single, as far as I know. DI Mooney was widowed about a month before he arrived on Saint Marie just over a year ago. He has one daughter Siobhan, currently at university back in Britain.

"Funnily enough, Dwayne, DS Cassell and DI Goodman all had to go to London to follow a lead on a murder in a boat off Saint Marie. DI Mooney was their liaison at New Scotland Yard. Now, shortly before DI Goodman's new girlfriend had got a job back in London. He stayed behind with her, with DI Mooney replacing him here."

"Probably wanting a fresh start as a recently widowed man," Hermione nodded.

"Back again, Inspector?" Devon Stevens asked. "And you have a new associate with you this time, I see."

"Mr Stevens, this is Detective Chief Inspector Weasley of the Metropolitan Police in London. Apparently, Stuart Johnstone belonged to an isolated community with an interest in the occult and mystical. On a trip to Saint Marie, he visits here one day and is murdered not far from here the following morning. This is a shop that specialises in voodoo paraphernalia. You can forgive us if we consider these facts may be linked.

"Can we speak in your office please?"

Leaving shop assistant Everton Worrell in charge of the shop, Stevens led Ron and Jack through the warehouse section towards his office. Whilst Ron shared Jack and Florence's assessment of most of the merchandise within, some crates towards the back of the room seemed to radiate magic – and much of it at least borderline Dark Magic at that.

A corpulent African Caribbean man was standing by the office, alongside a slight girl of similar origins, her hair in a neat ponytail. There were two tall muscular black men behind them, both dressed in stiff suits that signalled private security officers. "Mr Stevens, I was wondering," rumbled the corpulent man, "if we could discuss recent _business trends_ with you? There have been some _unexpected factors_ recently that have had an impact."

"Sure, Mr Gallia. These men, however, are Detective Inspector Mooney of the Saint Marie Police and Detective Chief Inspector Weasley of the Metropolitan Police in London. Apparently, a potential customer of ours was gunned down nearby…"

"Now, Mr Stevens, I can't recall either myself, DCI Weasley or DS Cassell mentioning that he was shot, let alone "gunned down". How on earth did you know that?!" Jack Mooney, Ron thought, was clearly as quick on the uptake as his reputation suggested. "I mean, one might almost think that you know more about the murder than you are letting on…"

"There was talk of a drive-by shooting nearby a couple of days ago. The victim's description from a witness's description seemed to match the late Mr Johnstone." Stevens was also quick on the uptake, but something about his tone of voice and body language suggested to both Ron and Jack that he was not being honest with them.

"Mr Gallia," Stevens added, "is the head of one of our suppliers, _Black Widow Incorporated_. This is his Executive Assistant Grace Ambrose and his assistants Michael Roberts and Colin Garner.

"Now, unless you have further questions, inspectors…"

"Actually, we do have one. Where were you between 08:30 and 09:00 the day before yesterday…?"

As Jack noted Stevens' answer, Ron noticed that both Roberts and Garner seemed to have a yellow dolphin tattooed on their right wrist.

"Have any of you heard anything about a _golden porpoise?!_ " Jean asked the patrons of Catherine's Bar. "If so, it could help the Saint Marie police with a current investigation."

Catherine smiled. There was something about the seemingly irrepressible blonde that raised your spirits whenever she was around. Her quieter, more serious sister was also proving popular, as was her affable brother-in-law. The way all three could somehow segue perfectly from general chatter to asking about the mysterious marine mammal was impressive. Catherine got the distinct impression that all three were more experienced than their apparent ages (the mid-twenties at a guess) would allow them to be.

"Nothing about a golden porpoise, but some of the people distributing those voodoo statuettes down at Port Royal have a yellow dolphin tattooed on their right wrists. Bad luck, those things." The woman who was telling Jean this shuddered. "My sister, she was brought one by some anonymous donor and has had bad luck ever since. Her husband and son were injured in an accident at the docks. They are Customs Officers, you see, and…"

"Have there been," Rex added, writing something down in a battered exercise book, "any other border officials affected by bad luck after receiving an identical anonymous gift?"

"Yes, the Port Royal and Honoré Customs Officers have had several such injuries lately, man. A bad business. They are at 'bout quarter capacity, so my brother-in-law says. Any smugglers must be having an easy time of it, man."

"Thank you for your help. Please could you bring the statuette to Saint Marie police station? Thank you.

"Louise, Jean, we need to speak to Ron and Hermione about this. It could be a breakthrough."

"Statues been unlucky is a breakthrough?" Louise asked as they left the bar. "Probably just a series of coincidences, love. That's what these superstitions usually come down to."

"Usually, I would agree, darling. A wizard murdered in connection with smuggled magical items does, however, mean that Customs Officers suddenly getting sick or injured after the mysterious gift of a voodoo item _is_ interesting."

"Do you think the items could be _actually_ cursed, Rex?" Jean asked.

"That's why I want Ron and Hermione to examine one. They should be able to detect if it is.

"Then we might be able to get some actual answers in this investigation."

" _Black Widow Incorporated_ was founded in 2015 by a Mr Buonaparte Ignace Gallia the Fourth. He claims to be the great-grandson of some chap of the same name, who was supposedly the Zombie of Baron Samedi, or some similar voodoo tradition." Hermione looked up from her laptop. "I've never heard of him before…"

" _I have!_ " Rex responded. "Buonaparte Ignace Gallia, alias Mr Big, was a Haitian-born Soviet assassin, linked to the dreaded SMERSH assassination bureau. He also ran a major vice operation in the United States and the Caribbean, based from an island off Jamaica, financed by his discovery of Sir Henry Morgan's pirate treasure trove. Finally, he was head of the Black Widow Voodoo cult, using his claim to be the living corpse of Baron Samedi and a few notorious murders to become feared, particularly around his strongholds in Harlem and Jamaica. A tall hulking chap of mixed African American and French parentage, he was truly formidable, zombie or not!

"Eventually, an old friend of mine, a Commander Bond of the British Secret Service, caught up with Mr Big in around 1954. Gallia's yacht was blown up by a mine the Commander had planted and he himself was promptly devoured by a leopard shark.

"Commander Bond is still alive. I can ask him for a full report if you so wish. He certainly regards Gallia as one of his most formidable foes." Rex didn't add that, thanks to the Royal Jelly Honey, James Bond still looked and felt like an active twenty-something, not the ninety-seven he was. That still was only twenty-one years older than Rex himself and actually a few years _younger_ than Louise and Jean.

"Thank you, Rex," Ron nodded. "A psychotic killer with links to a voodoo cult? This is beginning to make sense. All we need is more evidence…"

There was a knock on the police station door. Dwayne answered and was surprised to be handed a statuette, golden in colour, by a woman. "I was asked to bring this here. It was given to my brother-in-law in Customs. He and my nephew were hurt in a serious accident soon afterwards. The same thing happened to other customs and immigration workers. These things bring bad luck!"

"Can we help you?" Florence asked kindly.

"Yes. That man," she pointed to Rex, "I tell him that earlier. He told me to bring it here. So, I brought it here!

"You keep it! We don't want it back. Bad luck!"

After the woman had left, Jack turned to Rex. "We don't deal with superstition here!"

"I know that! We are, however, looking for a smuggler of voodoo items. As is shown by the career of Mr Big, sending a few statuettes whilst faking dockyard accidents could be enough to create a panic."

Ron examined the statuette of a snake of some description. "I would say that this is not expensive to make or distribute. A golden dolphin is a logo on the base, alongside a large spider. There is a mention of _Black Widow Incorporated_."

"Well, this is evidence of some relationship between the smuggling and _Black Widow Incorporated_ ," Hermione pointed out. "There is likely to be a link between Mr Johnstone's murder, the smuggling operation and _Snakebite Industries_. We know that the two companies are linked.

"Rex, please contact the Commander and find out all he can tell you about Mr Big and his operation. Then, _Black Widow Incorporated_ has its headquarters at the top of a cliff near Port Royal. There is a beach below there, with a network of caves into the rocks below, closed after a series of unfortunate accidents. If Ron, Jack and Florence ask questions at the business premises, can you, Louise and Jean inspect the caves for us please?"

"That should be possible," Louise agreed.

"Mr Big was a very dangerous man, Rex," said the tall, slender man, strands of his dark hair forming a comma over his forehead, skyped over the same monitor screen that Harry Potter had used two days prior. "He was having both me and his slave clairvoyant Solitaire keelhauled when that mine went off. We were both very lucky to survive. Then he had imprisoned poor Felix with that shark. He lost an arm and half a leg, as you know. _The Big Man_ was feared for a reason!

"I'll send the file over the secure e-mail channel. Be careful, the three of you. If this Gallia is like his great-grandfather…"

" _We might be fed to sharks!_ " Jean replied, slightly shakily. Both her sister and brother-in-law, she noted, were rapidly paling in complexion. "Don't worry. I think we shall be _very careful!_ "

"What she said," Rex confirmed. "Thank you, James. That information could be of vital importance in bringing some very nasty people to justice…"

" _Snakebite Industries_ was visited today," Buonaparte Ignace Gallia the Fourth said, "by a local police detective named Mooney and a visiting one from London. His name is Weasley…"

" _Ronald Weasley?!_ " asked the short Englishman with bandy legs and long, straggly ginger hair that was just starting to grey. "Tall, powerful and redhaired, with a distinct West Country accent? If so, he is Harry Potter's Deputy at the Auror Office of the British Ministry of Magic."

"I couldn't place the accent, but he fits the description. Aurors are Wizard policemen, are they not?

"This Ronald Weasley. Do you know him? Is he dangerous?"

"He, his wife Hermione and their best mate and brother-in-law Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort back in 1998, when they were still teens. If he is on the island, we are facing one of the most formidable wizard duellists and fighters around."

" _Sir!_ Our contact in the Saint Marie Grand Hotel," said Michael Roberts, "says there are a couple of officials from London staying there. A married couple named Weasley. A tall redhead and a petite brunette."

"Hermione Weasley, nee Granger," the Englishman confirmed, "is a senior member of the Ministry of Magic in London, specialising in magical law. Whilst a capable opponent in a fight, she is more of a researcher and administrator.

"Given their reputations and closeness to Harry Potter and Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, the presence of the Weasleys suggests that the Johnstone murder is being taken seriously…"

"This Mrs Weasley. Is she a powerful witch?"

"More skilful than powerful, I would say."

" _Hmm…_ Mr Roberts. You seem to have something else to say."

"Yes, boss. There were three tourists, a dark-haired British man and blonde and brunette American women. The man and the brunette claim to be newly-weds named Milligan and the blonde is her younger sister. They have been asking about a _golden porpoise…_ "

"Rex Milligan, muggle correspondent of the British wizard paper _The Quibbler_ recently married some Yank woman, another muggle. She and her younger sister are supposed to be private eyes, whatever they are…"

"It seems the wizard and, err, muggle authorities are on to us!" the Big Man rumbled. "There is still much for us to do. We may need to _take action_ …"


	4. Chapter 4: The Underground Temple

The _Balaska II_ docked into a reserved space in a Port Royal Marina the following day. After mooring, Rex, Louise and Jean had a brief conflab in the control room.

"It is only a short walk to the beach from here," Louise noted, "per these directions Officer Hooper gave us."

"The beach is a public one," Rex noted, "so three holiday makers shouldn't be too conspicuous. We are dressed for a quiet walk along the sands.

"I take it we are all wearing those special belts?"

"If you think, dear brother-in-law, that I am going anywhere near Mr Gallia IV _without a weapon_ , you are deluded!" Jean was most insistent on that point. The three of them also had waterproof pouches strapped to the outside of their belts for their torches and mobile phones.

Jean looked over the prow of the yacht, before turning back to see her sister and brother-in-law kissing softly. She sighed sadly. Whilst Louise and she had casually dated two young men named Ken Scott and Chris Barton respectively during their schooldays, neither of them got beyond a few chaste kisses after the monthly dance parties. Both couples had parted amicably once the girls had left Starhurst School and the boys Walton Academy nearby. It was still a devastating blow to the sisters to learn that Ken and Chris had both been killed during the D-Day Landings. With neither Dana having found another paramour by the time their dear friend Nancy Drew had told them about the Royal Jelly Honey, they decided that serving their country using the skills learned solving mysteries in exchange for extended youth would come at the expense of romance, not wanting to get their hearts broken again.

Then, in 1967, their exploits had taken them to the English countryside. Four of their younger British counterparts had formed a Paranormal Research Bureau. Rex was the team's journalist, the keen instinct for finding a story and the sure touch in telling it that had allowed him to chronicle the comic misadventures of life at Sheldrake Grammar School standing him in good stead. It hadn't taken long for Louise to fall for the affable Londoner, who despite his surface cynicism was kindly and loyal to a fault. Rex's friends at the Bureau assured Jean that Louise's love was reciprocated. Shortly thereafter, it was common knowledge to everyone in the former young sleuth, scientist and journalist community, apart that is from Rex and Louise themselves. It was of all things a cauldron of _amortentia_ that did the trick. Louise thought the potion smelt of Rex's aftershave, Rex Louise's perfume. Luna was with them and explained what it meant. After over fifty years of missing the obvious, it had taken less than four months for the two to tie the knot.

" _If_ you two lovebirds are _finished smooching_ , may we go inspect these caves?" Jean called with a grin. "I know you both have fifty years of missed making out opportunities to make up for, but…"

" _Now, Jean…!_ "

"Sorry, Sis! Still, we did agree…"

"To investigate the caves? We remember," Rex assured her, "and are about to do so. It is just that with Mr Gallia's forebear's reputation, Louise and I are reassuring ourselves that whatever happens we face everything together now."

"That is _so sweet!_ I hope to meet someone like you some day. Mind you, knowing us, I probably have met him already – or her…"

"You have," Rex noted, "a flirtatious relationship with Linda Craig. Why not ask her out for a coffee one afternoon?"

"I certainly would be happy to have Linda as a sister-in-law, Jean," Louise agreed. "You _like_ her, and she _likes_ you. Why not go for it?

"Both Rex and I are liberal, Sis. Neither of us would love you any less for taking a female partner."

"Of course. _Always be true to each other whatever happens!_ My Lone Piner friends got it spot on."

Jean just pecked Louise and Rex in turn on the cheek. They then disembarked. Rex reached into his face on a photo of the three of them that was his screensaver. A life-sized fingerprint appeared on the screen, against which he pressed the index finger of his right hand, bringing up a new menu screen. Once he selected an option, the _Balaska II_ 's front lights flickered on and off briefly. "There! Intruder defences set." He returned his mobile to the pouch. Arm-in-arm, the three strolled off to the beach.

"Sir," Florence began, "the financial records have come in. Interestingly, there is little we can obtain about _Black Widow Incorporated_ , as the financial records are all held in the British Virgin Isles."

"Mr Gallia uses a tax haven? You do surprise me, Florence! I'm sure all his affairs are closely guarded.

"What about his staff? _Snakebite Industries?_ "

"Those two bodyguards of his are local hoodlums, with extensive criminal records for violence. Both are in receipt of salaries that seem unusually high for standard personal protection and haulage work.

"Grace Ambrose has a significantly smaller salary, despite ostensibly having a more important job. She has no criminal record. Neither does Everton Worrell, the _Snakebite Industries_ ' shop assistant, who also gets paid the going rate. There is no evidence of financial irregularities with either. Unless they have bank accounts that we don't know about, I think that they are probably accessories after the fact at worst.

"Thirty per cent of _Snakebite Industries_ is owned by _Black Widow Industries_ , sir. As for Devon Stevens, his salary is about two-thirds of _Snakebite Industries_ ' entire annual turnover."

" _Really now?!_ That is interesting Florence. Does he have a criminal record?"

"Yes sir. He did three years for money laundering a decade ago."

"A shop selling low cost items being run by someone with a history of money laundering," Hermione mused, "and partly owned by a company run by the great-grandson of a notorious crime lord. Then a man looking into smuggling is gunned down nearby. As the goods supposedly being smuggled seem to be linked to the ones sold by the shop and produced by both companies, I suspect a link."

"That would seem a reasonable deduction, love," Ron concurred.

"I agree," Commissioner Patterson gravely consented. "I should go to _Black Widow Incorporated_ , Inspector. Be careful, however, as none of you are cleared for firearms. I shall see what I can do to get you some armed backup, as this Mr Gallia sounds a very dangerous man."

"Thank you, Commissioner," Jack replied. "I intend to be very careful. All we intend to do is ask a few questions."

"This must be the place, Sis, Bro!" called Jean, as she peered into the bleak mouth of a cave. At the top of the cliff above stood a modern-looking factory.

"You've never called me that before," Rex noted. "I like it, Sis!" He hugged his sister-in-law tightly.

"It's great that you both get along so well," Louise sighed happily. "We've really blended as a family."

"I was good friends with you both before you and I were an item, love."

"That's true, darling. It must have made the blending easier."

Jean had entered the cave and opened her pouch to retrieve her flashlight. Turning it on, she used the light to examine the cave. "This pile of rocks blocks the rest of the cave. It must have been the cave-ins they mentioned. You would need specialist equipment to get past that.

"Yes, it's packed up tight," she added, tapping the mass of heavy stones. "Unless we can bring some high explosives from the _Balaska II_ , we shall have to give up on this idea."

"Maybe not, Jean," Rex said, producing his mobile and bringing up the special menu again.

"I thought you said, my love, that your cell phone was provided by Q Branch as a remote for the yacht's security systems. That's not going to be of much help…"

"According to James, Q Branch also provided some additional features, including access to the yacht's secure skype network, GPS tracking system and computer databanks, a bug detector and other useful gadgets. One of them is a chemical analysis scanner, which reveals that these _fallen boulders_ are on a stainless-steel mount, apart from this section here. This appears to be mounted on plasterboard and in a hinged metal frame. Anyone else thinking _door?!_ " Rex felt around the area he had indicated and eventually found a switch to send it swinging inwards. " _Et voila!_ R Milligan, locksmith, at your service!"

" _A secret door?!_ " Jean noted. " _How original!_ And not very suspicious at all…

"Well, I suppose we should enter. A concealed entrance suggests they must have something to hide."

Looking carefully inside with their torches, they entered. Louise found a switch on the inside of the door to close it. They walked through the cave and found a series of grottoes at the back, the largest of which was decorated with several five-foot high wooden crosses, the arms of which were in dusty black frock-coats, with battered bowlers on top and dog collars around the crossbar. In front of them, on the floor of the grotto, were pairs of yellow gloves, gold-handled canes and battered black toppers. In niches in the rock were gold- and silver-tinted statuettes of spiders, snakes, sharks and crocodiles.

"From what James told me," Rex noted, "those horrible scarecrow-like things are effigies of Baron Samedi, God of the Cemeteries and Chief of the Legion of the Dead. This must be an underground satellite temple of the Black Widow Voodoo Cult. _Fossilised Fishhooks!_ I wouldn't want this lot as interior designers."

" _Yuck!_ " Jean agreed. "This place gives me the creeps! We have found evidence that Mr Gallia seems to be following in the footsteps of Mr Big…"

"So, you know about my great-grandfather?" came a deep, soft voice, with a French-tinged Caribbean accent. The three turned to see a huge man, six and a half foot tall and solidly built. Rex got the strong impression that Gallia, like his great-grandfather, carried very little fat (as Ron had thought), but plenty of muscle. Gallia's head was huge, like a football, as close to round as possible and very nearly hairless. The eyes were unusually far apart, with black pupils that seemed to expand unnaturally wide. He had thick dark lips, a wide nose and a slightly greyish tinge to his skin, presumably due to the same chronic heart condition that had a similar effect on his great-grandfather.

More to the point, there were half-a-dozen men, all armed with handguns pointed directly at the three sleuths, alongside Buonaparte Ignace Gallia IV.

"Yes. Mr Big was a SMERSH assassin and a racketeer, who used the Black Widow Voodoo cult to run a major criminal and vice empire in black America and the Caribbean.

"My sister-in-law was right then, Mr Gallia, or would you prefer Mr Big or Baron Samedi?"

"And you must be Mr Milligan. A British wizard contact for my operation identified you, when my bodyguard Mr Roberts described the three holiday-makers asking about a _golden porpoise_.

"Apparently, your new wife and sister-in-law are detectives. You are an investigative reporter. I don't want either investigating my affairs.

"Now, hand your flashlights and those pouches to my men, then let them frisk you all quickly. Once done, I shall show you my operation."

Seeing no other option, Rex, Louise and Jean obeyed his instructions. Luckily, the frisking was a quick affair that failed to detect the concealed knives in their belts. They were then led into another grotto, smaller but full of crates.

Gallia pointed to an open crate. "What do you see?"

"A few cheap statuettes, yellow metal," Louise responded, "probably neither solid gold nor ancient."

Rex picked one up. "Hang on, darling, this is genuinely heavy. It doesn't look machine-made either. I think that these are real antique Voodoo items.

"Let me guess, Mr Gallia. There is some sort of Notice-Me-Not Charm on the items, performed by one of the wizard contacts you alluded to. The same individual cast Bad Luck Curses on the trinkets that you had sent to the local customs officials. With fewer officials active, the less chance of anyone being close enough to examine the genuine articles well enough to overcome the charm. Masterfully done, Mr Gallia."

"Thank you, Mr Milligan. It is gratifying to know someone appreciates my genius.

"Now, unfortunately for you all, I occasionally have to devise one or more untimely deaths to dispose of troublesome individuals. The three of you are in that category. I was thinking of something inspired by Voodoo, as such deaths help fix my identity as the zombie of Baron Samedi in people's minds.

"For the moment, take them into the next cave and tie them up. I'm sure I can come up with a way of ensuring slow, agonising deaths for you all…"

The three prisoners were taken into the next cave and seated on a stone bench. Rope was produced and used to bind their arms securely behind them and tie their legs together at their ankles and knees. Their torches and pouches were placed on a nearby table before Gallia and his men left.

" _Hello?!_ " came a voice from a metal-fenced tent at the other side of the cave. A little girl of six or thereabouts, pretty and apparently of mixed race, emerged from under the canvass and leant against a gate in the fence. "My father has made you prisoners too? You can't release me?"

"If we can get free, we shall try and release you," Louise assured the girl softly. "I am Louise. These are my husband Rex and my younger sister Jean. You must be a Miss Gallia?"

"Bernadette Imogene Gallia at your service," said the girl in a similar accent to her father's. "My poor mother died giving birth to me. Father learnt that I was neither a boy nor likely to be a witch like my mother.

"I have been kept as his prisoner. Until he knows for sure that I am not magical, as none of his wizards could sense anything from me, he wants to ensure I remain available to become his seer."

"We shall do what we can for you," Jean promised soothingly. "Oh, if only I could reach my knives…"

"Louise, darling, I have an idea. If I could undo your belt buckle and remove the belt with my bound hands, could you remove the combat knife with yours? Then we can cut ourselves free."

"It's worth a try, love. Let's give it a go!"

Rex and Louise twisted as best they could and eventually were leaning on their sides with Rex's hands by Louise's waist. As best he could with his wrists tied together behind his back, he worked on her buckle, quickly undoing it and beginning to slide the belt free. Once it was off, Rex held it by one end, as Louise felt for the hilt of the combat knife, being easier to free from its sheath than the penknife. She found the hilt, drew the knife from its sheath and worked the right blade against the rope around her wrists. Having eventually cut her arms free, she then sliced through the ropes around her knees and ankles. She rubbed circulation back into her limbs, before cutting first Rex and then Jean free. They retrieved their torches and pouches.

"I don't suppose there's a key to this gate?" Bernadette asked hopefully, once a three-way hug between Rex, Louise and Jean, punctuated by a long kiss for the first two, had finally ended.

"Not that we can see, Bernadette, sorry," Louise told her. "We'll look for some tools…"

"No need," Rex assured her, mobile phone in hand. "Now, if I press here," a section of the phone's back slid open to reveal eight tiny discs, "I can retrieve one of these," removing one of the discs and magnetically fixing it to the lock of the gate. "Stand back, Bernadette!" Once the girl had stepped back a few steps, he then pressed the phone's screen again and detonated the disk, blowing the lock off. He then opened the gate and beckoned Bernadette out. "Thank you! I thought that I would be a prisoner for years…"

"You poor thing!" Rex informed her. "Your father really is an odious oik!"

"I don't know what one of them is, but I am sure it is appropriately nasty! My father is a brute of a man. _Please_ will you get me away from here?"

"We shall try," Jean assured you. "Bernadette is a lovely name for a lovely girl…"

"Thank you, but I would prefer to have nothing to remind me of _that monster_ …"

"Fair enough," Rex told her, as they turned into another grotto. "Hang on. There's a stairway cut out of the rock here. Anyone else think it leads to _Black Widow Incorporated?!_ "

" _And Mr Gallia!_ " Jean pointed out. "We have only just escaped from one of his spider's webs, Rex."

"Perhaps," Rex mused, returning to his mobile. "According to the GPS signals in their mobiles, both Ron and Hermione are in the factory. I'll send Ron a text. Hopefully, this tunnel ends at Gallia's office, and he, Hermione and the Saint Marie police can be awaiting to take Mr Gallia and chums to jail.

"Of course, that assumes everything goes to plan, which experience tells me won't happen…"

A couple of hours earlier, the Saint Marie police force was meeting with Ron, Hermione and a couple of people Commissioner Patterson had assembled. "These two men, Inspector, are a couple of former guardsmen, who are cleared for firearms. We are not going after Mr Gallia without armed backup. I know you only intend to ask a few questions, but you cannot be too careful.

"Your usual approach can be very effective, Inspector, but I doubt that Mr Gallia would just sit back and let you calmly eliminate everyone from your enquiries."

"Agreed, Commissioner. If we break with the tradition somewhat on this occasion, well, so be it. The last thing Siobhan needs is to be orphaned. Rosey and Darlene would want JP and Dwayne back alive too…"

" _I want me back alive too, chief!_ "

"Right you are, Dwayne. No unnecessary risks, everyone. Ron? Hermione?"

" _Agreed!_ " Hermione said fervently. "From what I hear, this Mr Big was a nasty piece of work. I don't want to find out what his great-grandson is capable of at first hand."

"Nor do I, love."

When they entered the _Black Widow Incorporated_ headquarters, they came across Gallia, his PA Grace Ambrose, his armed bodyguards Roberts and Garner and half-a-dozen other big, tough locals referred to as "manufacturers". JP noted to Jack that their hands seemed more suited to violence than making _authentic Voodoo souvenirs_.

Whilst they were there, Jack received a telephone call on his mobile. "Hello?... You have the ballistics report on the bullets in poor Mr Johnstone?... _Really now?!_ That was a very careless error… Thank you… Bye now!"

Meanwhile, Florence heard her mobile bleep its text message tone. "Sir, mobile phone logs have been provided to our colleagues in Guadeloupe. They mentioned a call shortly before Mr Johnstone was shot between Mr Garner and Mr Stevens. Apparently, Garner was very close to the murder scene at the time."

"And the bullets match an automatic pistol owned by Mr Roberts. There are a couple of black cars in the garage, per JP. I think we have them, Florence!"

Ron and Hermione had been looking over the warehouse. Discretely using their wands, they once again discovered some Dark Magic items amongst the tawdry _Voodoo paraphernalia_.

Ron's mobile pinged the text message received signal. He looked as it. " _Interesting!_ We need to ask Jack and Commissioner Patterson to get everyone into Mr Gallia's office."

A few minutes later, Ron, Hermione, the Saint Marie police, the two ex-guardsmen and Mr Gallia and his staff were all gathered in Gallia's office. It was large and full of bookcases. Gallia sat behind his gigantic desk, Florence and Hermione seating themselves opposite him.

"So, Mr Gallia," Florence began, "Mr Johnstone was shot by a bullet fired from a gun belonging to Mr Roberts. We have evidence Mr Garner was nearby at the time. An eyewitness mentioned a black car leaving the scene of the crime. We think that is suspicious.

"If you have a reasonable explanation, now would be a good time to give it…"

Before Gallia could respond, a bookshelf swung away from the wall, revealing a rock staircase. At the top stood Rex, Louise, Jean and a pretty girl of five or six. "Hello, everyone," Jean said cheerfully. "This is Bernadette Imogene Gallia, Mr Gallia's daughter. We found her downstairs with plenty of genuine gold and silver Voodoo paraphernalia. You might want to investigate later…"

"And _you_ might all want to look at the front of my desk," Gallia interjected. From two large keyholes in drawers facing Hermione and Florence, two .35-inch barrels were protruding. "One of my illustrious great-grandfather's better ideas, these guns are activated by pedals under the desk. Any slip of my feet and Mrs Weasley and Sergeant Cassell get very nasty stomach injuries."

"Guardsmen _stand down!_ " shouted Commissioner Patterson. He then turned to Gallia. "Mr Gallia, if you hurt Sergeant Cassell, Inspector Mooney and I shall pursue you to the ends of the Earth if need be to bring you to Justice." Selwyn Patterson didn't shout that line, but let his usual soft grave tones say clearly that this was a simple statement of absolute fact.

"You have the same promise from me, if _anything_ happens to Hermione…" Ron snarled.

" _Count us in as well!_ " Rex echoed. " _You are the most complete bounder I have ever had the misfortune to meet!_ Learn this, Mr Gallia. Louise, Jean and I shall follow Ron into hell if necessary to retrieve Hermione from your foul clutches…"

"You shall have to find us first!" Gallia snorted derisively. A section of the floor around the desk began to descend into a lift shaft hidden below. This included the desk itself, Gallia's chair, the spots where Roberts and Garner were standing and Hermione and Florence's chairs. Once it was sufficiently far beneath the floor, a trapdoor slid into place above it. The guardsmen helped Dwayne and JP take the four remaining "workers" and Miss Ambrose into custody, whilst the others looked down in dismay at the trapdoor.

"Mr Big used similar tricks at _The Boneyard_ club in Harlem," Rex recalled ruefully. "I think its time for your big reveal, Ron…"

To the surprise of all those present not used to magic, Ron pulled out what looked to be a stick and shouted " _Reducto!_ " The trapdoor was blasted to smithereens! Down below, fragments were landing on those in the shaft, where the lift appeared to have reached the bottom. Another figure had joined Gallia, Roberts, Garner and their prisoners. This was a short man with bandy legs and long, straggly, greying ginger hair both Ron and Rex recognised instantly. " _Mundungus Fletcher!_ " the former roared. "I should have known that you would be involved in a wizard smuggling racket…"

" _Wizard?!_ " Jack muttered. "Commissioner, he can't be right…"

"Normally, I would agree, Inspector. A man blowing something up with a stick and a word, however, does suggest he may be telling the truth.

"Chief Inspector Weasley, we should have been informed earlier…"

Meanwhile, down below, Roberts and Garner grabbed Hermione's and Florence's arms respectively and yanked them to their feet, at Gallia's orders. "Bring Sergeant Cassell and Mrs Weasley with us. We need the former as a hostage and the latter for Project Solitaire II. Mr Fletcher?!" Mundungus nodded, magically summoned Hermione's wand and dropped it on the desk. He, Gallia, Roberts and Garner touched a statuette and promptly disappeared with both the statuette and their helpless captives. Hermione's wand remained on the desk.

"As I said…"

"I'm sorry, everyone," Ron interrupted, "but with a few exceptions, such as my friends here, there are strict rules about revealing the existence of magic to non-magical people.

"Whilst we knew Mr Johnstone was a wizard and we had reason to believe Mr Gallia had magical aid, none of us expected this to happen. With Hermione having no wand, she and Florence are in grave danger.

"I wonder what Project Solitaire II is?"

"Father said that was why he married a witch, who died giving birth to me. He wanted to _breed_ with witches or precognitive or telepathic mutants."

"Solitaire was Mr Big's captive clairvoyant," Rex remembered. "Bernadette said she was intended to be this Gallia's pet seer. _Petrified Paintpots!_ Gallia is still looking to father a seer. He intends to use Hermione as his next _broodmare…_ "


	5. Chapter 5: Island of Horrors

The portkey had deposited the six passengers in a spacious office, like Gallia's one back at _Black Widow Incorporated_. "Welcome to a small island off the coast of Saint Marie," Gallia announced. "I bought this disused colonial fort under an assumed name. Make our _guests comfortable_ , please, gentlemen."

After frisking Florence and Hermione respectively, confiscating their mobile phones as they did so, Garner and Roberts led them forcefully to two low armchairs. Once the prisoners were seated, broad straps were used to secure their torsos and upper arms to the chairs just above the armrests. Then smaller straps were buckled tight to bind their wrists and ankles to the arms and legs of their chairs.

"Now that I don't have to worry about either of you doing something stupid," Gallia addressed them again, "I can explain your immediate futures. Mrs Weasley, I have been trying to father a seer or telepath. My daughter Bernadette was the offspring of a witch, who sadly died in childbirth. The girl appears to be what Mr Fletcher calls a squib.

"You, Mrs Weasley, shall have the great honour of bearing me children…"

"Sorry, but I intend to honour my marriage vows. Ron and I already have two children. I really wasn't planning on having any more. So, let us go, before my husband rescues us and sends you to hell."

"What a pity… For Sergeant Cassell, that is." He turned to Florence. "I take it you use the little finger of your left hand less than your others? My great-grandfather usually worked on that principle with his guests. Mr Garner, if you would be so kind as to break the little finger of her left hand for me…? Thank you."

Garner stepped up to the chair Florence was strapped to and firmly yanked back the requested finger until there came a sharp _crack_. Florence yelped in utter agony, before collapsing half-conscious into her seat. Hermione whimpered in terror.

"You see, Mrs Weasley, the more you cooperate with me, the easier Sergeant Cassell's captivity shall be. _Quid pro quo!_

"We shall leave you two alone now to contemplate your fates. Remember, Mrs Weasley, that it won't just be you that suffers for any defiance…"

"The man is a monster!" Hermione muttered after Gallia had left. Florence just whimpered weakly. "I'm sorry, Florence…"

"It's _their_ fault, Hermione, not _yours_. I would have said no to _that_ too. You didn't know that Gallia would have one of my fingers broken. We are in the clutches of a sadist, it seems.

"Hermione, _please_ don't have sex with Gallia just to spare me pain. I'm a police detective. When I signed up, I knew that I might have to put my life and health at risk to protect the public…"

"Florence, I am a British witch. Just over twenty years ago, there was a civil war in the British wizard world. I was eighteen when I was captured and tortured by a Dark Witch. Trust me, it still haunts my nightmares.

"There is no way that I can just sit back and watch them _hurt you_ , if I can do something to stop it."

"Which is ironic," Florence commented drily, "as _sit back_ is just about the only thing we can do! You can't magic these straps off us, I suppose…?"

"No, sorry. I am a skilful witch, but never really studied wandless magic. My wand is back on Gallia's desk at _Black Widow Incorporated_."

"Oh, well, that's a pity. We can't simply escape that way.

"So, what is this _wizard world_ like…?"

"So, there is this secret world of witches, wizards and magic hidden from us. Those wizards can't tell us about it save in extreme circumstances. The Chief Inspector and his wife are ones, as was that man who helped Mr Gallia and company kidnap DS Cassell and Mrs Weasley. _Is that it?!_ "

"Succinctly put, Dwayne, yes!" Ron replied.

"Now, we are wasting time that could be spent getting both ladies _back alive!_ Our next step is to…"

" _Find them, Ron!_ " Jack snapped back. "To rescue them, we must know where they are. We don't!

"You yourself said that that _thing_ could have taken them anywhere. They could be back in London for all we know!"

"I doubt it," Rex noted. "Mr Gallia's great-grandfather largely operated out of the Caribbean and the United States. His smuggling operation is based here in Saint Marie. I suspect he must have a second base nearby. Hermione and DS Cassell would be held there.

"If he intends to, err, _breed_ Hermione, he'll need her alive and healthy long-term. Your colleague, Inspector, would serve as a hostage _and_ as a reason for Hermione to cooperate.

"From what you say, _Serpent Industries_ is a front. Commissioner Patterson, I would take your team and put pressure on Mr Stevens to reveal what he knows about Gallia's operations. Also, ask Miss Ambrose to give you access to this place's records in case he mentions another place of operation.

"Mr Big operated from a small island off the coast of Jamaica, guarded by semi-trained marine life and Voodoo-inspired murders. Is there any island off Saint Marie that has acquired a reputation for being unlucky or haunted recently?"

"That island with the old fort just off the entrance to Honoré Harbour has acquired a reputation for ghost stories and odd accidents recently, chief."

"Thank you, Dwayne. Commissioner can you and your former guardsmen accompany us in taking these fine gentlemen to the station before we take Miss Ambrose to _Snakebite Industries_? JP, I want you to go through their records, whilst we gather Miss Grace, Mr Stevens and Mr Worrell in one room. We need to eliminate them from our enquiries…"

"So, we keep the tradition, chief?"

"I intend to, Dwayne." Jack's tone of voice suggested he was relishing the opportunity. He turned to Ron, Rex, Louise and Jean. "What about you four?"

"We are taking the _Balaska II_ to this island fortress, Inspector," Rex told him. "The young girl has some tricks up her sleeve that should surprise any malicious occupiers. We need to find out if Hermione and Sergeant Cassell are there and, if so, liberate them.

"What about Miss Gallia? She needs to be looked after."

"I can try and arrange something with social services, but that would take time…"

"Bernadette, below decks on our yacht is armoured and secure," Louise said. "If you come with us, we shall protect you, I promise."

"Thank you, Miss Louise."

Ron produced a small mirror from his pocket and tapped it with his wand whilst saying "Harry Potter". The face and upper body of a tall, lithe man with messy black hair, glasses and a jagged, lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead replaced Ron's reflection. "Hi Ron. What's up?" A voice seemed to come from the mirror. Presumably the voice belonged to the face.

"Harry, Hermione has been kidnapped, along with a Detective Sergeant Florence Cassell of the Saint Marie police. Most of the kidnappers were muggle gangsters, but one was our old friend Mundungus Fletcher. I've had to reveal our world to DS Cassell's colleagues and Dung used a portkey to take him, the gangsters and their prisoners goodness only knows where.

"Rex, Louise and Jean are with me. We have a potential lead on the leader of the gangsters. He's the great-grandson of an old foe of James Bond's. A nasty piece of work with a plan to father a seer or telepath. We believe Hermione is lined up to be the mother of his next attempt. What help can you send?"

"I'm sorry to hear that, Ron. I'll let Mum, Dad and Hermione's parents know.

"Wonder Witch, a party of her Furies, Wednesday and I can be through the portal on the _Balaska II_ in an hour or two. I'll speak to Stephen about support from the Secret Circle. Any requests?"

"I would like Jason please, Harry," Rex suggested. "Let's see how the self-styled Chief of the Legion of the Dead does against Etrigan! Otherwise, whoever you can get would be welcome. Quite frankly, the more, the merrier!

"Louise love, can you help Bernadette to the _Balaska II_."

"Who's Bernadette?" Harry asked. "Another police detective?"

"No," Jean answered. "She was the result of our gangster's previous attempt to sire a mind reader or precognitive. A suspected squib of about six…"

"I celebrated my sixth birthday last month," Bernadette interrupted. "My father let me feed his pet American crocodiles."

"I don't want to know what with," Louise muttered darkly.

"Several choice lumps of beefsteak, Miss Louise, that was all. I suspect that you, Mr Rex and Miss Jean would have been on tonight's menu, though…"

" _Whatever you do, don't have nightmares…_ " Rex muttered.

"Don't worry, Rex. I'm sure I can provide you with plenty of material for sweet dreams tonight…"

"TMI, Sis!"

" _Now, Jean…!_ "

"Sorry, Sis!"

"Let's get a move on!" Ron barked. "You do your thing at _Snakebite Industries_ , Commissioner, Jack. Try and provide as much magical muscle as you can, Harry. Rex, Louise, Jean, lead me to the _Balaska II_ and take me to this mysterious island fortress.

"I'm looking forward to my next meeting with Mr Gallia…"

"So, Mrs Weasley, have you come to your decision?" Gallia asked, entering the room where Hermione and Florence were being kept. "I hope that it is one that won't cause Sergeant Cassell unnecessary discomfort…"

"Yes, I shall have sex with you," Hermione sobbed softly.

" _Good!_ Like my illustrious ancestor, my one vice is pretty girls.

"Since you have agreed to mating with me, I shall be generous. Untie the prisoners!" At once, Roberts and Garner began removing the straps binding Hermione and Florence to their chairs.

"Mundungus," Hermione begged, "if Mr Gallia allows, please can you heal Sergeant Cassell's broken finger? I know that Mr Gallia will have her hurt again if I am uncooperative. Trust me, I shall be the most cooperative sexual partner he has ever had." Mundungus looked at his employer, who nodded a reply. A wave of his wand and the incantation ' _Episkey!_ ' later and Florence's finger was as good as new. She smiled weakly.

"Now, we need to find you both a more comfortable prison," Gallia announced. "There is the perfect place upstairs, has a connecting en suite shower room and a lockable connecting door direct to my suite. That should make our _activities_ easier to conduct, Mrs Weasley.

"There are proper twin beds and comfortable chairs. You will only be _restrained_ when necessary, such as Mrs Weasley being chained to my bed during the breeding process.

"Now, come along. Remember, my men and I are armed and you both aren't. Any tricks may reduce Sergeant Cassell's quality of life significantly…"

Hermione choked back a sob. _Hurry up and find me, my love! In a choice between letting this bastard shag me and letting Florence be tortured, there's only one winner, but as you are my True Love, this is making me physically sick! Thank goodness Gallia doesn't know how poor I was at Divination…_

As they were escorted out of the room into a corridor, Gallia pointed through an obviously recently installed Perspex window. Some feet below the window level was the inside of an old boathouse. It had been refitted as a reptile house for a few large crocodiles. "These are about one of my two prized families of American crocodiles. The other was in a large grotto under _Black Widow Incorporated_ and presumably now destined for a zoo. That particularly large one is the breeding male. The others are his mates and his children.

"Mrs Weasley, you have observed that large platform on a pulley by that gantry above? I use that to lower several large steaks of meat to feed my scaly friends. Imagine Sergeant Cassell, bound alive on that platform as that evening's main course…

"You see, I hold all the aces. On this island of horrors, I am lord of the manor. Welcome to the domain of Baron Samedi! Here, life is short, and death is slow…"

He led them up a flight of steps and to a steel door with a grill inset within. He produced a large key, with which he unlocked the door and opened it. At a beckoning gesture, Hermione and Florence went inside what was clearly to be their prison. It had twin single beds, both fully made, two armchairs and a table. There was an open door that led through to a small shower room, with shower, toilet and basin. Finally, there was a grilled door, leading into a room Hermione was desperately trying not to think about.

Once the pair were inside, Gallia laughed. "Now, Mrs Weasley, I want you standing stark naked before the grilled door in half-an-hour. We can then get _properly acquainted…_ Sergeant Cassell, I want you seated on one of the chairs, away from the door."

The door was shut and locked behind them. Hermione was only just keeping herself composed. Her hands free, she discretely pushed a hidden button on the pulse-hardened wristwatch and saw a small yellow light appear on the dial. Harry had asked Q Branch to make watches for his family. Each one included a long-range GPS homing beacon…

An hour or so earlier, Ron, Rex, Louise, Jean and Bernadette had arrived back at the _Balaska II_. Rex produced his mobile phone, once again pressed his face on the screensaver photo, had his right index finger scanned and selected from the menu the app to deactivate the anti-intruder defences.

Once aboard, they cast off. Louise took Bernadette down below decks and to a cabin. "That is the en suite shower room, if you want to freshen up. You can see the bed, table and chairs. There is food in the galley if you want a snack. If you need anything else, just ask and we'll see what we can do."

"Thank you, Miss Louise. You, Mr Rex and Miss Jean are good people. Can I stay with you all?"

"That may require some legal paperwork first, but I'll see what we can do." _I must speak to Rex…_

Rex meanwhile was with Jean and Ron in the control room, looking at a radial thermal image of the fort. "It seems inhabited, by at least a dozen humans and a few reptiles, probably crocodilians," Rex commented.

"Do we know if any are Hermione and Florence?"

"Her mobile's not on, so it's hard to tell. The fort isn't supposed to be currently occupied and is owned by a company of unclear ownership based in the British Virgin Isles, so my guess would be yes.

"Jean, can you contact Harry on the pulse-hardened computer in his office at the Ministry of Magic for me please?" Rex asked, Louise arriving as he spoke.

Jean pressed a button with a stylised image of Harry's forehead scar on it. The face of Harry Potter appeared on the screen, skyped from the Head Auror's office.

"Hi everyone!" Millicent Potter waved as she spoke. The former Millicent Bulstrode had been blood-adopted as a sister by Harry, after he helped her overcome the bullying that had so blighted her life up until Summer 2016. Now, as the Auror Department archivist and the secret identity of the Amazonian superheroine Wonder Witch, she was married to the former Pansy Parkinson, another victim. Pansy's few-week old son (born through IVF with Harry as the donor) Sirius was nestled in her arms, Millie proudly standing by.

During an adventure off Themyscira just over a year before, Harry and Ginny had found themselves prisoners of war on a planet in a different dimension, alongside their close friend Wednesday Addams. After a three-way to keep warm in a cold cell, the couple had married her shortly afterwards. Ginny, another of the Furies, was standing on one side of Harry, Wednesday on the other.

The Furies had been chosen by the Six Goddesses of Themyscira as Wonder Witch's back-up after the demon Neron allowed Lucius Malfoy and Dolores Umbridge to take over the Ministry of Magic over Christmas 2017, forcing most mages into exile for a couple of months. During that time, the usurpers reintroduced an old law forcing the eldest daughters of families with a hereditary Wizengamot seat to have to marry a wizard in a consummated permanent union. Both Susan Bones and Daphne Greengrass, amongst other exiled females, were caught by this act, Susan being single, and Daphne married to Tracey Davis. Susan had married Neville and Hannah Longbottom and Daphne had persuaded Harry to marry her, being sure that Harry would treat the rape victim Tracey as a sister and not a mistress. Now, Susan Bones-Longbottom and Daphne and Tracey Greengrass-Potter were also Furies, although Daphne was pregnant and not currently on the active roster. They were, alongside Neville and Hannah, also in the office, as were the remaining original Furies, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell and Padma and Parvati Patil.

Since the return from exile, two further Furies had been chosen by the Six Goddesses in Astoria Malfoy and Gabrielle Delacour. Both were also present, as was Astoria's husband Draco. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Rolf and Luna Scamander completed the group.

"All the regulars are out in force then?" Rex asked.

"Merlin, yes!" Susan snapped. "Hermione is _our family_ , Rex. We rescue our fellow mages. I thought you understood as an honorary mage…"

"If Rex had been an actual mage, Susan," Luna interrupted, "he would have been a Hufflepuff. He's brave and smarter than he thinks, and he can be cunning too, but he's loyal above all else. You weren't there when he told Rita Skeeter just what he thought of her the day we reconquered magical Britain from Malfoy, Umbridge and their friends. His friends Jon and Penny belong to a group called the Lone Piners, Susan. One of their rules is _to always be true to each other whatever happens_. Rex believes in that too. He told Rita that if she slandered the rest of us in print again, he would personally discover and expose in print every nasty little secret she had, purely out of loyalty."

"That's what I said. You call it loyalty, but we call it _being always true to our friends!_ "

" _That's a Hufflepuff!_ " Hannah concluded.

"That is what keeps our community going. In Storybrooke, Ensuring All Live Happily Ever After is the key factor. In Gotham, it is Staying Righteous Against the Rising Tide of Corruption. For mages, it is Doing What is Right and Not What is Easy. For us, it is Always Being True to Each Other Whatever Happens. Louise, Jean, Jigger, Jon, Penny, George, Luna, Rolf and all of you are my family and, trust me, _whatever happens, I have your backs and heaven help anyone who tries to hurt you…_

"Whenever you hear of the exploits of Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, the Swifts, the Dana Girls, Trixie Belden, Mystery Inc., the Three Investigators, the Famous Five, the Lone Piners, the Secret Seven, the Baker Street Irregulars and, yes, the boys of Sheldrake Grammar School, don't focus on the exploits, the pluck, the trailing strangers, or the way everything ended up in a roof-level hoo-ha. Think of the friendship and the way we all would charge straight into danger to rescue our friends new and old from trouble. _That is what we are and what we always will be!_

"Giving up on each other would be like a Fairy Tale Hero Abandoning Hope. _It isn't in our natures!_ "

"Quite right, love!" Louise affirmed. " _Boy, are you getting lucky tonight!_ "

"Can we get around to launching a rescue attempt?!" Ron cut in furiously.

"Of course! Come on through the portal from the ministry to the secret room in the keel that leads to the airlock chamber and the torpedo tubes. I've also contacted an old friend via UNIT. He's bringing further reinforcements…"

As Rex spoke, a strange whining and groaning sound began. A large blue box with a flashing light on top briefly faded in and out of existence before solidifying. Once the noise had stopped and the light stopped flashing, a door opened and a tall, grey-haired man with a hawkish nose and fierce eyebrows emerged.

"I brought James Bond, Wanda Maximoff, Zatanna Zatara, John Constantine, Jason Blood and…" the Doctor began. He didn't have to say the last name as a tall redhead ran from the TARDIS and hugged Rex, Louise and Jean tightly.

"Are you all alright, my pretties?" Zelena Mills asked. During the exile, Rex had been billeted with Zelena in Storybrooke and the two had become firm friends. In fact, before Rex had got together with Louise, Henry Mills and Luna Scamander had tried their hand at matchmaking the pair without success.

"We are, Zelena," Rex answered. Whilst the two were not compatible romantically, they were still genuinely fond of each other. "Regina and Emma unavailable?"

"They are both on a graduation trip with Robin, Killian, Henry and Ava," Zelena replied. "I've left Robyn with Snow and Charming, in case you needed my help."

"As I told Harry earlier, the more, the merrier!"

Rex, Louise and Jean went down below deck, opened the secret door to the portal room and let the party from the Ministry through. As they did so, another portal opened, and Rex found himself under a rugby scrum of Jigger Johnson, George Kirrin and Jon and Penny Warrender. _As I said, my friends, no, my family, have my back. I called, and they came running – and they always will._

To prove the point, a third portal opened and Doris Harland and Evelyn Starr, the Danas' best friends from their long-ago days at Starhurst School emerged. "Getting into trouble again?" Doris sighed. "I thought this was _your honeymoon!_ "

"Well, you know us," Jean said, hugging her tightly. "When did we ever have a holiday that _didn't_ end in mystery and adventure?! Why should Rex and Louise's honeymoon be any different? It comes with the territory after all…"

As they returned to the control room, a light was flashing on the radial thermal imaging screen and an alarm sounding. " _Good girl, Hermione!_ " Rex exulted. "She's activated the homing signal in her watch, and she's in the fortress. Let's get close enough to launch an assault. Louise, love, check the mortar cannons and forward torpedo tubes are fully loaded, ready for action stations in forty-five minutes…"

"Ready, chief?" Dwayne asked, as the Saint Marie police (minus Florence of course) gathered outside _Snakebite Industries_ , alongside the Commissioner's former guardsmen and Grace Ambrose. The latter wasn't handcuffed but was under caution.

"Yes, Dwayne. We have the evidence we need to know who is guilty and of what. It's time to gather the suspects together.

"Now, I know we are all worried about DS Florence Cassell, but we must _not_ let our emotions cloud our actions. We are here to bring those we believe to be guilty to a fair trial, not to avenge our friend. Our new friends are trying to safely recover her and Mrs Weasley as we speak. Let us hope that they succeed, but we must not become like her abductors ourselves. If reasonable force is required, fine. _Unrequired_ or _unreasonable_ force is not."

"The Inspector is right," Commissioner Patterson confirmed. "We are the police and not vigilantes. We investigate, then arrest and charge as the evidence dictates. After that, we hand our evidence to the prosecution and appear as witnesses when required. Whatever role they may or may not have played in Sergeant Cassell's kidnapping, that remains our duty and nothing else."

"We shall now enter the premises. Our guardsmen shall check that all is clear…"

Hermione slid her knickers down her legs and removed them. Now fully nude, she stood before the door through to Gallia's quarters, tears down her cheeks and several silent prayers in her mind. With Florence gripping the armrests of her chair tightly, the door opened, and Hermione stepped through. She was led to a bed, laid upon it and felt her wrists and ankles be shackled to a bedpost apiece. Then all she remembered was terror, shame, distress and feeling of total revulsion against both herself and her _rapist_. Yes, she may have technically consented, but under duress. What happened to her, she knew, was rape, to any reasonable definition.

When shortly afterwards, the crying Hermione was returned to her cell, Florence hugged her tightly. Hermione went to the bathroom onward and this time was physically sick. _Hurry up, Ron! I can't face another session of that…_

"All ready?" Ron asked. He, Draco, Harry and Wednesday all held their brooms, whilst Millie, Ginny, Tracey, Susan, Padma, Parvati, Katie, Alicia, Astoria and Gabrielle respectively were in uniform as Wonder Witch, plus Lioness, Vendetta, Nemesis, Justice, Pursuer, Tracker, Warrior and Allure of the Furies. Their knee-high boots were charmed for flight. Pansy and Daphne were also uniformed as Furies Wrath and Protectress, but were staying with Rex, Louise, Jean, Bernadette and baby Sirius. Neville, Hannah and Kingsley were joining James, Wanda, Zatanna, John, Jason, Zelena and the Doctor in infiltrating the fort by TARDIS.

"What's going on, Miss Louise?" asked Bernadette as she came up for a snack. "Who are all these people?"

"We can introduce you to them later, Bernadette. Currently, we are rather busy trying to rescue our friends from your father's clutches. Stay in your cabin and en suite and keep yourself safe.

"All is prepared, love. _Action stations!_ "

Rex pressed flicked a switch on the weapons system's controls and two concealed hatches opened in the foredeck. From each of these, the gaping mouth of a mortar cannon locked into position. Each cannon fired, and two high explosive shells struck the rocks around the fort. To Gallia, his men and Florence, it was unexpected. Hermione, however, knew it was the answer to her prayers. _I knew you would find me, love! Now, hurry up and rescue me!_


	6. Chapter 6: God of the Cemeteries

"We are under attack!" Gallia grumbled. "Who is firing at us?"

On a monitor screen, there was an image of what looked like an ordinary mid-sized private yacht, just with mortar cannons protruding through hatches in the foredeck. Mundungus Fletcher, however, was more concerned by several feminine figures in black, white and gold also on the foredeck. "Cripes, it's Wonder Witch and some of her Furies!"

"Who are they?!" Gallia demanded. "What are they after?"

"Wonder Witch is some witch with superpowers, a friend of some Yank muggle called Wonder Woman apparently. She caught me when I was using a few thugs to ransack wizard London's main shopping district. It was only the fact that I had helped many of those that currently run the Ministry of Magic that kept me out of Azkaban prison. She's strong, fast, agile and can fly. The Furies are a group of witches with similar powers that she acquired during a recent exile abroad during the brief Malfoy government.

"That wizard there is Harry Potter, the Head Auror at the Ministry of Magic and the Chosen One who defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort. Next to him is one of his wives, the Yank witch Wednesday Potter nee Addams. Draco Malfoy, a reformed former Death Eater, is among them too. All are close friends of Ronald Weasley, who is also present of course.

"What do they all want? _I'm guessing Hermione Weasley and her new friend!_ "

"Well, they can't have her! She might be carrying my seer. At the very least, she might provide me with a couple of witches or wizards in due course.

"Activate all exterior defences, Mr Roberts. Whilst we wait, we can bring Mrs Weasley and Sergeant Cassell down here. Mr Garner make sure that both are securely bound before bringing them in here."

Garner nodded and then left with a couple of other henchmen. A few minutes later, Hermione and Florence were led in, their arms bound tightly behind their backs.

"Mr Gallia, you said that if I let you have your way with me, we wouldn't be kept tied up…"

"I am aware of that, Mrs Weasley. In case you have not noticed, we are under attack. Your husband seems to want you back. Well, if he wants you and Sergeant Cassell unharmed, he will have to face me first.

"Gentlemen, please bind their legs and carry them to the crocodile feeding station."

Both Hermione and Florence were seized, dragged to the ground and had their legs tied together at the ankles and knees. They were carried through to the gantry above the crocodiles. Hermione was laid on the gantry itself and Florence on the feeding platform. "See," Gallia crowed, "any attempt to rescue you, Mrs Weasley, condemns Sergeant Cassell to _a very unpleasant fate…_ "

As he spoke, a whining and groaning noise echoed and a blue box with a flashing blue light upon it materialised on the gantry. At the same time, the roof was literally _torn_ from the old boathouse by ten flying females. The largest of these flew down and landed on the gantry. She wore black armour decorated with white astrological symbols over her torso and flanks, with a short skirt attached. Most of her tanned and toned upper legs were bare, with knee-length high-heeled boots covering the lower. Her equally bronzed upper arms were also uncovered, but she wore large golden bracelets from her wrists almost to her elbows. A golden tiara with a Caduceus symbol in the centre held her long hair back, to match the Caduceus wand in a holster on her golden belt, alongside a lasso and a large sword in a scabbard. A bronzed hoplon shield hung across her back. "Hello Mr Fletcher!" Wonder Witch exclaimed cheerfully. "Are you enjoying your Caribbean holiday?!"

" _Cripes!_ Not you again!"

" _Charming!_ Etiquette costs you nothing, Mr Fletcher.

"Now I hear you have helped kidnap my old friend Hermione Weasley. Given that she is tied up near your feet, I'm afraid the rumour seems to have been confirmed. I believe the current sentence for aiding and abetting an abduction is up to ten years in Azkaban. Then there is her muggle friend to consider. Abducting a muggle carries a tougher sentence for risking exposing our world. You have been very naughty, Mr Fletcher. Very naughty indeed!"

Whilst Wonder Witch was speaking, the nine Furies accompanying her, all similarly attired to their commander, had also landed on the gantry, alongside Draco, Harry and Wednesday. The TARDIS door had opened, and the Doctor had emerged with his passengers. Gallia and his men were surrounded.

"Back off and let us leave with Mrs Weasley!" Gallia ordered. "If you don't, poor Sergeant Cassell shall be dinner for my crocodiles. Mr Garner, please activate the winch controls. Thank you."

As Garner activated the controls for the winching mechanism and began to lower the helpless Florence towards the hungry reptiles, the Doctor used his sonic screwdriver to reverse the controls. Wonder Witch took to the air, flew to the feeding platform and picked up Florence with ease. She then flew the Detective Sergeant back onto the gantry, where Jason Blood cut her free with a penknife.

"You were saying, Mr Gallia?" Ron asked rhetorically. "Now, I am reclaiming my wife…"

"Not without a fight, Mr Weasley. Mr Roberts, lead two of my men against the foes ahead of us. Mr Garner lead the other two against those behind us.

"Mrs Weasley, your husband and his friends may be too strong for my men, but Mr Fletcher should be able to get us out of here. Mr Fletcher?"

"Err, yes, boss!" Something had attracted Mundungus' attention. "Hello, darling, what's your name?"

"I am known as Allure of the Furies," said a blonde Fury of average height, but extraordinary beauty. Her voice had just a hint of a French accent. Gabrielle's tiara, like those of her fellow Furies, not only could be used as a boomerang and boosted her telepathy, but also had charms to make even a close friend not recognise her unless said friend already knew her civilian identity. The magic belt around her waist boosted her strength, speed, stamina, agility and magical potency fiftyfold. It also allowed her the power to gain the allure of a true vela, allowing her to attract anyone.

"Mr Fletcher!" Gallia barked. "Take Mrs Weasley and me to safety this instant!"

"Yes, I will do, boss. Once this young lady has given me a kiss…" Fletcher had reached Allure. Instead of a kiss, however, he got a knee to the groin that had him groaning on the floor followed by a rapid series of spells from Justice (or Padma to those in the know) that left him disarmed, stunned, petrified and bound in seconds.

As for the muggle heavies, Gallia's prediction was right. One was stopped by a green mist swirling before him, then reforming into a tall pretty redhead. "Going somewhere, my flying monkey?!" she asked him. He sent her sprawling with a backhanded slap. " _How rude, my pretty!_ " At that, the thug felt something around his heart, before dying as Zelena crushed his heart to powder.

James Bond's trusty Walther PPK had dealt with one heavy, another had been sent through a portal to the MACUSA Auror Office by Wanda Maximoff. "Go straight to jail!" " _Ria ot eci!"_ Zatanna Zatara chanted, encasing Roberts' legs in ice, allowing John Constantine to disarm him and knock him out. "Ta, love. Let's finish this quickly, squires, as I'm dying for a fag." The final thug fell beneath a barrage of spells from Kingsley Shacklebolt. A desk job had done nothing to slow the former Auror's skills.

Garner was set upon by Lioness and Warrior (or Ginny and Astoria). A natural pairing, with the tall brunette hitting his head with the flat of her sword as the petite redhead crashed her hoplon into his midriff. The man fell as if poleaxed!

"And that, Harry," Draco whispered to his friend, "is why we don't argue with our wives!"

"Yes. Still hot though, aren't they?!"

"We are very lucky men. And you have Wednesday and Daphne as well. Lucky sod!"

Gallia, meanwhile, had cut the cords around Hermione's knees and ankles and forced her to her feet. "It seems as if I underrated your husband and his friends. No matter! Come on, Mrs Weasley."

"Ron _will_ kill you, you bastard!" Hermione spat angrily.

" _And when my wife swears, you must be bad!_ " Ron growled, raising his wand. "Let her go now, Mr Gallia, _or else…!_ "

Gallia laughed, dragging his captive towards a large room, decorated with several of the Baron Samedi scarecrows. At a push of a button on the wall, several of these exploded into flames.

"Behold Baron Samedi, God of the Cemeteries and Chief of the Legion of the Dead! I am invincible! Who can get past these flames, Mr Weasley? You need a fiend from hell! Like Baron Samedi himself…"

"You just _had_ to go there, squire," John Constantine noted. "Now, Jason!"

 _"_ _Gone! Gone! the form of man!_

 _Arise the Demon Etrigan!"_

As Jason Blood's body was bathed in flames and replaced by the hulking form of Etrigan, Gallia just stood stunned. Hermione was feeling a sense of satisfaction. _Let's see you take on a real fiend, Mr Gallia…_

" _Thou you are behind a mighty fire,_

 _That defends you not from my great ire!"_

Etrigan leapt through the flames and bodily lifted Gallia away from Hermione. He threw him over the flames and back onto the gantry. Following that, he lifted Hermione over his shoulder and vaulted with her over the flames. Once done, he untied the rope binding Hermione's wrists behind her. The freed captive promptly hugged the surprised demon, before pulling Ron in for a long kiss and tightly embracing Florence and the others.

Gallia meanwhile had climbed shakily back to his feet. James Bond was facing him. "Strange," Gallia commented. "You fit the description of the man who killed my great-grandfather. Are you a relative? He must be a hundred by now…"

"Actually, I'm not ninety-eight until November. You may have heard of me. The name's Bond, James Bond…"

With a roar, Gallia charged at the secret agent. He was met by a judo hold and throw that sent him flying. To his horror, Gallia landed on the crocodile feeding platform. He heard Ron shout _"Reducto!"_ at one of the winch cable pulleys, which exploded, causing Gallia to fall off the platform. His panicked floundering attracted the breeding male. With a few chomping sounds and an agonised scream, Gallia was no more.

"He disagreed with something that ate him!" quipped James Bond.

"Are you OK, love?" Ron asked. "Did he hurt you?"

"Not exactly, but… But… _Oh, Ron! He…_ " Hermione collapsed sobbing into Ron's arms.

"In order to keep me from being tortured," Florence spoke up softly, "Hermione allowed herself to be chained naked to a bed and _effectively raped_ by Mr Gallia…"

"It's OK, love," Ron assured his wife. "I don't blame you. We'll get through this together, I promise. I love you no matter what.

"Florence does Saint Marie have a rape treatment centre?"

"We have the relevant kit at the station and the hospital. She shall be a top priority, I promise.

"Thank you, Hermione. I could have met the same fate as our captor. I'll be forever grateful for your self-sacrifice."

"Now," Ron said, producing his mobile phone, "I must contact Jack. He has a few thugs and some large crocodiles to collect, as well as a Detective Sergeant. What about _you_ , Florence? Did they hurt you?"

"Mr Garner broke one of my fingers, but Mr Fletcher healed it. Other that that, just a few bruises and ligature marks. I was very lucky, thanks to your wife."

Some time earlier, the former guardsmen had finished sweeping the _Snakebite Industries_ premises. Jack, JP, Dwayne and Commissioner Patterson had gathered Grace Ambrose, Everton Worrell and Devon Stephens together in the latter's office.

"Now, lady and gentlemen, we have evidence that places Mr Roberts and Mr Garner at the scene of Mr Johnstone's murder. We also know that Mr Gallia is a vicious criminal. He is being pursued by the proper authorities.

"In the meantime, we must identify whether, and to what extent if so, any of you were part of Mr Gallia's criminal network. My team and I…"

"What about that Detective Sergeant?" Everton asked.

"She was kidnapped by Mr Gallia. Alongside the wife of that Detective Chief Inspector…"

"Once again, Mr Stephens, I am amazed by your knowledge of information you have not been made party to.

"Ladies first, however, so Miss Ambrose, I shall start with you. You gave us full and free access to all IT and filing systems known to you. Our researches revealed no large sums of deposits paid into your bank accounts and you live modestly. At worst, you are an accessory to petty corruption.

"Please come to the station to make a formal statement. Charges may arise, but nothing likely to be too serious at this stage."

"Thank you, Inspector," Grace said, wiping tears from her eyes in relief. "I didn't know he kidnapped and killed people, I swear. I'm a good woman…"

"Thank you, Miss Ambrose. Only a great actress could have pulled off that shocked expression when Florence and Hermione were abducted.

"Now for Mr Worrell. Again, we have found nothing suspicious about your income and expenditure. There is nothing in any records we have found to suggest that you are anything other than a normal sales assistant.

"To sum up, I am convinced that you are not involved. You are free to go at any time."

"Thank you, Inspector."

"Now for you, Mr Stephens. Not only have you displayed the previously mentioned clairvoyance, to be sure, but you are paid a salary equivalent to two-thirds of the annual turnover of the company. As this company is thirty per cent owned by _Black Widow Incorporated_ , and much of the remainder is owned by other companies trading from the British Virgin Isles, I believe that this business is primarily a front for Gallia's smuggling operation. Your spell in prison for laundering money supports this thesis.

"Finally, we know that Mr Garner received a telephone call on his mobile just before Mr Johnstone was shot close to where Garner took the call. You made that call, Mr Stephens. Per a transcript of the call from your provider, you told him _to ensure Mr Johnstone's silence – by silver or lead…_

"That explains your knowledge of Mr Johnstone's shooting. You conspired to cause it!

"Take him away, JP!"

JP handcuffed Mr Stephens and began to lead him out of the office. As he did so, Jack received a call on his mobile. Once he had ended the call, he smiled. "Detective Sergeant Cassell is safe and well, having nothing but a few bruises and ligature marks from her ordeal."

"That is excellent news, Inspector. Particularly for you, Mr Stephens," the Commissioner noted even more gravely than usual. "If Sergeant Cassell had been seriously wounded or worse, I would have spoken to the courts about you never being eligible for parole."

"Mrs Weasley is also well physically but requires a rape examination. Apparently, Gallia forced her to sleep with him to ensure Florence's well-being.

"Gallia was killed, as was one of his thugs, during the rescue. Six others including Roberts, Garner and the wizard Fletcher have been captured. Apart from the wizard, who shall be tried according to their laws, the others are to be dealt with by the courts in Saint Marie.

"Now, Commissioner, I must get down to the hospital. Poor Florence is having a check-up and Mrs Weasley her examination."

"Of course, Inspector. Give Sergeant Cassell my regards. I am gratified to know that she is safe.

"She did us all proud, Inspector. You all did."

" _Sir! It was horrible! I had a finger broken but healed by Mr Fletcher. Then I was almost fed to Gallia's crocodiles! Plus, poor Hermione was…_ "

"I know, Florence. How are you?"

"OK physically, sir, but that was only due to Hermione giving herself to _that monster…_ "

"I know. He's dead, I understand?"

"Yes. He was eaten by one of his own crocodiles. _Serves him right!_ "

"I can't disagree with you there, Florence. How is Hermione?"

"In pieces, sir. Her husband's brilliant. I think she'll be OK, but it will take time."

"On the subject of time, Florence, any time off that you need will be granted. It sounds as if it was quite the ordeal, so it does."

"Thank you, sir."

"So, JP and Dwayne won't remember magic, wizards and the rest? You altered their memories…"

"They both should recall being assisted by a DCI and his wife from London and three freelancers, yes. Whilst it was felt that having you, Florence and the Commissioner aware of magic for the future would be useful, we couldn't make a case for them, Jack. Preserving wizard security is paramount.

"We have also erased knowledge of magic from Stephens and Gallia's henchmen. Dung Fletcher has been returned to the UK and is currently facing trial on smuggling and abduction charges. This time it will be serious time in Azkaban prison for him. He finally went too far."

"Thank you." Jack looked across the marina to the _Balaska II_. "We shall be meeting up at Catherine's Bar as usual this evening. Would you like to join us? Florence and I can be discrete around Dwayne and JP, I promise."

"Thank you, Jack. We'll be there. First, however, we have some business on the yacht…"

"Are you sure about this?" Kingsley asked Rex and Louise. "It is a major responsibility…"

" _We are, Kingsley._ That girl has something she needs that we can offer her. She needs love, support and hope.

"Bernadette Imogene Gallia needs a new identity as someone loved and cherished. Louise and I can offer her that, particularly as Jean is also resident with us."

"Well, we are fast tracking the legal side of things. All you need to do is sign there and there. If Luna and Harry can sign to witness the document…?"

"Well, it was good to see everyone again," the Doctor said. "We, however, must be going now."

"Before you go," Louise announced, "Rex and I have discussed Bernadette's situation. We can tell you that the Ministry of Magic is arranging for us to get a special license to adopt her. Bernadette, how would you like to be called Harriet Jean Luna Milligan from now on?

"You shall never be imprisoned, neglected or bullied ever again. I promise you that now…"

"Wait, Miss Louise. You and Mr Rex are my parents now? I live with you?"

"Well, when the process is completed, technically, but yes, you are to live with us from now on. You can start calling me _Daddy_ , if you like.

" _Petrified Paintpots!_ We are going to be parents, love! It's both wonderful and terrifying at the same time…"

"I know, darling. So, Harriet, do you like your new name?"

"Very much so, Miss Louise."

"I'm _Mommy_ , Harriet. And this is _Auntie Jean_."

"Mommy, Daddy and Auntie Jean. I have a proper family at last." With that, the future Harriet Jean Luna Milligan found herself pulled into a four-way hug by Rex, Louise and Jean.

"Congratulations!" Jean said. "I'm an Auntie!"

"Yes, Congratulations!" echoed the party on the deck.

"We must arrange a playdate with the twins," Luna said to Rex. "Hello, Harriet. I'm your Auntie Luna, your Daddy's honorary little sister. It's good to meet you."

"I'm pleased to meet you too, Auntie Luna."

Harriet lost track of how many new Aunties and Uncles she was introduced to, before the Doctor lost patience and shepherded James, John, Jason, Zatanna, Wanda and Zelena into the TARDIS. Zelena was told she could access one of the portals on the yacht from Storybrooke if she wanted to bring Robyn and the rest of the family over.

Once the TARDIS had left, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione. "How are you both coping? I mean, with everything…"

"It will be a long process, but I will overcome this. Whatever happens, Ron and I are as madly in love now as when we first kissed. The children are wonderful, as are my parents and the Weasleys. I have the best friends a woman could ask for. My church back home has supported rape and sexual assault victims before, as have our friends on Themyscira. With all your support, I should be OK.

"Oh, Harry, it was awful. I was chained to the bed naked, unable to push him off or close my legs. I'll never forget that _monster_ pawing my breasts, bum and hips, whilst… Whilst…" She collapsed sobbing into her friend's arms.

"Take as much time off as you need, both of you," Kingsley said to Ron. "I won't lie to you. Rape of whatever type is just about the worse thing that can happen to a woman. She, Rose and Hugo should be your priorities for the foreseeable future."

"Thank you, Kingsley."

"See you back home, everyone," Rex called as the various groups began to leave through the portals. "Thank you for your help."

"To be fair, all Doris, Evelyn and we did was stay with you in the yacht," Jon pointed out.

"You came, Jon. _My family answered my call, as you always will!_ Just as I would if any one of you had. That's what matters.

"Jig, George, give my love to Velma and Jupiter, won't you?"

"Of course, Rex. And _you_ give that daughter of yours a great big hug from Auntie George…"

"Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon," Evelyn said as she hugged Louise goodbye.

"We will. All four of us are due a nice relaxing holiday."

"Don't jinx it!" her husband and sister groaned in unison.

Later that evening, the party were gathered in Catherine's Bar. The moonlight was bathing the sea and sand in silver. Harriet dozed on her soon-to-be adoptive mother's shoulder. Rex was watching an impromptu game of beach cricket between a few of the local teenagers.

"So, you all leave tomorrow?" Jack asked. "Well, it's a shame to see you all go. You were a great help in this horrible business.

"You have our everlasting gratitude. Don't they, Florence?"

"They certainly have mine, sir. Ron, Hermione, thank you for everything. Keep in touch."

"Oh, we will, Florence," Hermione replied. "I won't forget the way you comforted me after Gallia…" At that point, she just pulled Florence in to a tearful embrace. She smiled weakly at her new friend once the cuddle had finished.

"Come back to Saint Marie," Catherine said as they left.

"We will," Rex assured her. "After all, we may have had the usual hoo-ha, but this little one makes it all worthwhile.

" _Fossilised Fishhooks!_ Hermione, I didn't mean…"

"I know, Rex. At least, we got some happiness out of this. Harriet is a sweetheart.

"Come on, darling. We still have some packing to do…"


	7. Chapter 7: Passionate Leave

Jean Dana smiled at her niece splashing around in the pool, as the _Balaska II_ continued to cruise the Atlantic. Her sister and brother-in-law were giving their new daughter swimming lessons. Harriet was a great kid. Jean, like Louise and Rex, adored her.

All Jean was doing was lounging in a bikini, reading a book whilst catching the rays.

The family was together and happy. All was right with the world.

Now, to plan her date with Linda Craig. In a week, they would sail the yacht into a boathouse specially built for it in Culver Bay in Dorset, a short walk from Kirrin Cottage. After a night staying with George at the cottage, they would take a portal to the old Dana Place at Oak Falls back in the States, before taking another to the Craig siblings' California ranch, the _Rancho del Sol_. During that time, she was hoping to take Linda for a horse ride and ask her out for coffee. She smiled at the thought of being cuddled up on the lounger with the dark-haired, dark-eyed, olive-skinned beauty.

"It is good of the Potters to take Hugo for a few days," Hermione commented. "A week or so of just the two of us is just what we need."

"I agree, darling," her husband agreed, stooping to claim her lips with his. Suddenly a mirror vibrated in his pocket. "Harry, you had better have a good reason…"

"Sorry to interrupt you both," Harry Potter apologised. "We've had the results of your _examination_ back from Saint Marie, Hermione."

"Read them out, Harry, _please_."

"Certainly. You tested negative for HIV, syphilis, thrush and all other venereal diseases…"

" _Thank you, Lord!_ "

"But positive for something else. Pregnancy!"

"Are you sure, Harry?"

"Positive, Ron. The two of you could get a home pregnancy test if you wanted to check…?"

Hermione just sat back in horror. She and Ron had been _careful_ , not that that prevented mistakes of course. _No, it can't be…_

"How long have I been carrying? Is it…?"

"I don't know, Hermione. You should arrange an appointment at St Mungo's on your return. I'm sure that Ron and Harriet Milligan would give DNA samples if you wanted to do a paternity test, plus they would be able to determine an approximate date of conception.

"Ginny and Pansy can write those Quidditch match reports from Potter Island. I can ask them to pop over for emotional support…" Potter Island was a small island off the coast of Themyscira given to Millie and Pansy by the Six Goddesses as a wedding present. The adult Potters had suggested Ron and Hermione stay there on what Harry called "passionate leave". Hermione assumed that he must have meant "compassionate leave". It was unlike Harry to get his words wrong, though…

"Not yet, Harry. Ron and I need time to process this. Can you all come over for the weekend, please?"

"Of course. This is all about the pair of you…"

It was an hour later. Hermione had cried in Ron's arms pretty much throughout. _God, give us strength to get through this…_

Once she had finally wept all the tears she could, she looked up at Ron. "I couldn't abort an embryo, Ron, not unless there was something seriously wrong with it. If this is Gallia's…"

"It shall be my son or daughter, love, even if that _bastard_ was the biological father. I shall love him or her regardless, because _I shall be the father in every way that counts!_ "

"Sweetheart, I love you more each day! Thank you. Now, to share our love madly and passionately right here on this beach. After all, we are on _passionate leave!_ "

After that, Hermione was lost in the joys and thrills of _making love with your True Love_ and not the parody of it she experienced chained to Mr Gallia's bed. She was with Ron and he loves her, and she loves him. Nothing else, she felt, mattered at all…


End file.
